Final Fantasy VII: RELOADED
by DotNetDemon
Summary: "It is statistically possible that somewhere out there in the universe there is a world identical to ours with certain parameters changed. The question is, what changes would there be and how would that impact the outcome?" This is my nightmare. My name is Aeris.
1. The Flower Girl

The following story is a work of fiction based on the video game FINAL FANTASY VII™. All characters, locations, and events that are associated with the game are copyright © 1997-2012 SQUARE ENIX HOLDINGS CO., LTD. FINAL FANTASY VII™ characters designed by TETSUYA NOMURA. FINAL FANTASY XIII™ characters created by MOTOMU TORIYAMA and designed by TETSUYA NOMURA. This fiction is protected by fair use laws under the appropriate jurisdictions and is not to be sold or published without written consent from all parties. FINAL FANTASY VII™: RELOADED copyright © 2012 ADAM HARDIN. All rights reserved. FINAL FANTASY™, FINAL FANTASY VII™, FINAL FANTASY XIII™, the FINAL FANTASY™ logo, and meteor graphic are copyrights © and trademarks ™ of SQUARE ENIX HOLDINGS CO., LTD.

**Need a map of the game world to see how it's laid out? Prefer a PDF version? PM me!**

* * *

"Vengeance is Mine, and retribution, in due time their foot will slip; for the day of their calamity is near, and the impending things are hastening upon them."

Deuteronomy 32:35

* * *

I have dreams about her and what she did.

It's strange, really: seeing yourself through means of a third-person perspective, like looking into a mirror where your reflection has a mind of its own. I watched everything unfold from start-to-finish: the aspirations, the experiments, the escapes, the killings… all adding up to waking up in a puddle of cold sweat and gasping for air. Tifa would often wake up next to me, caress my arm, and ask me if I was OK. I would tell her constantly I was but, in all honesty, I'm not sure. I don't think I'll ever be sure, even as the frequency of the dreams died down. It's been one year since my story ended, cradling her head as the blood poured out. She looked up at me and whispered she was sorry before her eye, one of the last original biological pieces of her, rolled back in its socket.

The girl in my dreams… that version of me, though, lives in a much different world with much different circumstances. When I saw her, _me_, get killed by _his _hand, I was astonished that such an atrocious act could take place. More so, it was _he _who saved the planet in the end, at least in my story. But now he's gone so he won't be able to hear about my night terrors, my visions.

Nanaki asked that I write this for the mere benefit that maybe Bugenhagen could provide some more insight at the university. I decided why not: it's worth a shot in the least. Maybe others would like to know how the whole world almost got turned to shit, I don't know. But to understand everything, we've got to start at the beginning.

* * *

The funny thing about Midgar is not only its very unique populace, but its unique reliance on a very vital natural resource for the planet's continuing existence. Every living creature that exists on Gaia, our "pronounced" personal pronoun of how we refer to planet Earth, is a container for "spirit energy." Physicists, both experimental and theoretical, have isolated these particles down into what are deemed the "God particles." These particles maintain a relationship between all living things and the planet for which we inhabit. When we die, our spirits return to the planet, regardless of how we lived our life here on Gaia.

Unfortunately for the planet, this life energy that is created in a continual cycle of life and death is also very manipulative. Its most common role, at least in the country of Arcyllian where Midgar is located, is in electricity production. As compared to traditional nuclear methodologies where uranium and plutonium are mined, processed, and shipped as fuel to cause fission reactions, mako, the scientific term for the planet's life essence, is easier to extract and requires no enrichment process. Even better is the safety aspect: newer mako reactors are fusion-based as compared to the older fission-based reactors and its other nuclear counterpart. By combining the mako under extreme pressure, energy is released and materia—mako in a solidified state—is formed. This byproduct is then sold to mass producers who distribute the materia in little glass orbs capable of performing many amazing feats.

Some refer to it as "magic."

Scientists refer to it as "calling upon the forces of the planet."

I call it fucking scary.

With this ability to control the forces of nature in limited circumstances, many different and unpleasant side effects have occurred, namely misuse of their applications. As such, materia is now illegal without proper renewable licensing, training, and strict inventory control. The government does what it can to keep its citizens safe: not from each other, mind you, but from overthrowing the very politicians that they put there.

Midgar is the capitol of Arcryllian and is situated near the mountains but close enough to the coast to warrant shipping lanes and a large port not far from the city limits. The city was originally a cluster of smaller cities from a time long past; now, those cities are forgotten and the new reality has set in. Originally, Midgar was to be host to an extensive, ever-growing plate-and-pillar system in which large plates were to be supported above ground away from the polluted soil and toxic water. Unfortunately, this idea was abandoned after reports of a plate release accident in neighboring country Myceden caused everyone to take a second look at what they were getting themselves in to. It was rumored that the plate release was instigated by Arcryllian spies; others report that the eco-terrorist group AVALANCHE bore responsibility in response to Myceden's newest mako reactor coming online. Whatever the case, roughly two thousand people lost their lives.

Those days prior to my life going to hell and back were relatively uneventful. There was tension building between Arcryllian and Myceden over rumors that Myceden was providing arms to Junon—a dependent republic state south of Arcryllian and under Arcryllian's watchful eye—in order to stage a succession. Junon was a strategic area in terms of isolating Arcryllian: should that nation fall, Arcryllian could expect pressure from Nibel—a country that was a mere ocean away—from two sides. The northern pole of Gaia was a shared territory divided up amongst the major countries: Arcryllian, Myceden, Peoples Republic of Wutai, etc. With no one flag flying over the land, it wouldn't take much to stomp the research stations and sparse towns into submission and set up military installments.

Knowing my luck, they would probably be buried under the snow there already.

I'll bet you're wondering what I should say about me at this point.

My name is Aeris Gainsborough.

I am a Cetra, also known in layman's terms as an "Ancient." Unlike the girl in my dreams, there are plenty of us around. And also unlike the girl in my dreams, Mom is still alive. I haven't encountered Elmyra in my travels, though I'm sure she'll turn up somewhere. All I can do is wait until Bugenhagen reads this and can explain it to me. But, like the girl in my dreams, I am a bit of a troublemaker for the government. Our police force is a rough-and-tumble group of SOLDIER rejects that probably suffer from a mild case of mako poisoning. It doesn't help my case that I can never seem to keep my mouth shut, especially when I seem to be "violating" a city ordinance or some asinine law on the books about where a person can conduct business.

No, I'm not a prostitute.

I'm a flower girl.

Mom and I live in a lower middle-class neighborhood not too far from the center of town where she works for the Shinra Electric Power Company as an alternative resource research and developer engineer. Even though her title makes it sound like she cures cancer every goddamn day of the week, the pay is not as glamorous. My father, well… I'm still not sure what happened to him. Mom refused to talk about it and I never pushed it. But, I digress… Anyway, to help pay the bills I started growing flowers in the backyard and selling them on the street in the most unusual places. From the prostitute-infested slums of Escort Row to the high-end streets of the corporate executives' homes, I tried to scratch out a living to help pay the bills at home.

As far as what I look like: about five-seven, long medium-brown hair that goes down past my waist with beautiful bangs that not just any girl can master, and an ass that just won't quit. Sorry, I couldn't resist. While my tits aren't as big as Tifa, they suffice as well as get enough attention on their own.

Now that you know me, let's get started. This nightmare isn't going to write itself.


	2. Friends With Benefits

It was a cold September morning around eight o'clock. Looking into my bathroom mirror, my large emerald eyes demonstrated a level of tiredness found on most high school teachers after their third year of putting up with the nonsense known as the student body. I was brushing my teeth after sharing a bowl of cold cereal with Mom before she left for work.

"You know I appreciate all the effort you don't have to give," she had said earlier. "We'll be fine. Maybe I can move to another department or something."

I told her that I wished she would move to another company completely. I didn't trust Shinra as far as I could throw a four-door sedan when it came to maintaining good employee relations, much less employee safety. Mom would often tell me stories of worker mishaps in the reactors while trying to retrofit the fission-based ones. One such incident in the town of Gongaga, a fishing village in the southeast of Cosmo Canyon Sovereignty, involved a core meltdown that leveled everything within a five-mile radius. That was over a decade ago, and while the remaining survivors clung to their land as the mako returned to the planet thanks to its incredibly rapid half-life, the effects were everlasting.

To normal folks, that is. To Shinra, it was another day at the office.

Part of Mom's job was to accompany contractors to demonstration reactors to test alternative fuels in the retrofitting process. Each time she was dispatched I prayed that her voice wouldn't come from the Lifestream—the embodiment of spiritual energy that keeps the cycle of life going—and be sent back home in a pine box.

"Maybe I can get a job somewhere," I replied. "People think I'm cute enough."

Mom had laughed in agreement, saying, "That is true. I always get told how much you look like me."

"Well, you know what they say: the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Uh-huh," she said. "And by that token, it goes without saying that you definitely have your father's stubbornness."

I didn't say anything after that. After Mom finished breakfast she kissed me goodbye and left for work. My mother's name is Ifalna Gainsborough, though later I would learn that it was her maiden name from which my last name took on. My father's name… well, that would be putting the cart before the horse, so we'll cross that bridge when we get there. In the bathroom I finished brushing my teeth and rinsed my mouth out. I rubbed the rest of the sleep out of my eyes and started brushing my hair, preparing to begin the process of braiding it into the trademarked characteristic in which people readily identified me. Tifa loved it when I braided her hair the same way as mine and would often beg me to do it for her. I told her she was already more beautiful than me all the while gently wrapping each pinch of hair around each other all the way down, why did she need to rub it in? She would then retort that I was full of shit and in no way could she ever come close to being as pretty as me.

What a good friend.

After carefully tying my bow at the base of my ponytailed braid—intended to help keep it from unraveling—I went to my closet to pick out the day's wardrobe. Given the colder weather outside I had started wearing more of my figure-defining dresses and outfits instead of my normal, tomboyish attires. I sifted through my numerous shirts and pants until I found my favorite pink dress. As I changed, though, a dark premonition crept over me. Cetra communicate with the planet that they inhabit in much the same way mediums communicate with individual spirits through séances and sacrifices. Only in these instances, Cetra don't need chicken feathers or sacrificing virgins. Whispers in my mind warned of something unknown; they were unsure.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked aloud.

The whispers continued but made no sense.

I finished getting ready. After pulling on my bolero jacket and pulling on my boots, I called Mom's cell phone. She answered on the third ring.

Before she could even emit a salutation, I asked her, "Is everything alright?"

I could hear Mom's confusion as she responded with, "Yes, why?"

"The Planet… whispers are coming in that some bad shit's going to happen."

"Aeris, I told you about using that language…"

"Mom, seriously," I sternly said. "The Planet's trying to tell me something."

"I haven't heard anything sweetheart. Look, I'm almost at work now but when I get a chance I'll ask around to see if anyone else has heard anything, OK? I'll call you back as soon as I can. I promise."

Exasperated, I agreed and hung up. I put my cell phone inside my coat pocket and walked to the front door. We lived in a modest three-bedroom home at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. As mentioned earlier, out back was my flower garden where I kept my wares. I picked up my flower basket from the table next to the front door and went into the kitchen where the door to the backyard was. After harvesting a good mixture of vibrant floral arrangements, I locked the doors and started walking towards the downtown area.

The weather was relatively calm that morning. The ominous gray clouds that had made their presence conspicuously known the day prior were now vacated giving way to a clear blue sky and lots of sunshine. My neighborhood gave way to a bustling lower commercial district; on the other side of town stood the skyscrapers and research facilities. I walked along the sidewalk, concentrating on trying to pick up any more voices from Gaia. Instead, I got nothing: the whispers went silent. _Great_, I thought.

I continued on my way, offering flowers to each passerby for the measly price of one gil. After about an hour, I had accumulated a sum of twenty-three gil and some change. Regardless of what I was hearing in my mind concerning danger, I was making a pretty sweet haul so far. My footsteps had taken me into one of the more destitute areas of the commercial district. Ironically, it was also one of the sectors that I made the most in: it seemed that flowers brought more happiness to people than alcohol, free sex, or narcotics. Better yet, down the street was the 7th Heaven, Tifa's pub and restaurant. It wasn't quite lunchtime yet, but I knew she would be there preparing for workers who wanted to get a quick buzz before heading back into the assembly line.

The 7th Heaven was a standalone concrete building off of a side street. Tifa used her inheritance to purchase the building and established the bar once she was old enough to get her liquor license two years ago. Her business partner, a towering black man that resembled a tank with biceps named Barret Wallace, also served as the bar's security mechanism after hours with his downstairs apartment below the bar. Tifa was two years younger than me—her twenty to my twenty-two—but was often overshadowed with a weight that made her act a lot older than me and my mother's ages combined. She had long black hair as long as mine but normally kept it freefalling and unrestricted; her soft face was complemented by her sultry lips and raspberry-colored eyes that brought seductiveness and comfort to those who desired it. Today Tifa was wearing a white tank-top that exposed her midriff topped off with her trademarked teardrop earrings. From time to time, she would let me borrow some of her clothes for nights on the town. As tough as she was, she was still a girl, after all.

I knocked on the glass front door a few times. Tifa was behind the bar getting her till ready for the day while wrapping silverware up in napkins for her patrons. She looked up and smiled as I waved. After unlocking the door and letting me in she said, "Hey girl."

"Hi sweetie," I responded as I gave her a hug.

Tifa locked the door behind me and returned to her position behind the bar. The 7th Heaven was a quaint restaurant and grill that wasn't too big and wasn't too small. The booths were polished black leather and chrome with matching tables and bar. The walls were a soft, off-white color reminiscent of someone's living room. Tifa said it reminded Barret of his kitchen at his old home Corel or, as he often put it, "happier times." I set my basket on the polished bar and took a seat across from Tifa.

"How's your week been so far?" I asked.

Tifa pursed her lips together as she put the last bundle of twenty gil notes in the till and closed it. "Strange," she said. "Business has been normal though a little unusually slow at certain moments. Barret's been busting balls lately, especially Jessie's."

Jessie was a known member of the group AVALANCHE, specializing in the technical aspects of the group such as bomb manufacturing, hacking, and moral support. Having met and talking with her on numerous occasions, I could attest that she was definitely a gifted, yet modest, individual. Barret's role in AVALANCHE, at least as far as I knew, was limited to providing funding and sometimes liaison muscle. The leaders that I knew of were a woman named Felicia and a scientist named Fuhito. At least, that's what the underground sources had contended.

"I'm sorry to hear," I said, looking down.

Tifa looked up at me and smiled, asking, "How about you?"

"Funny you should say that: I think the Planet tried to give me a warning today."

"Oh? How so?"

"I was getting dressed this morning and heard these whispers—you know how I usually do—but these ones were worried, excited even; but I just couldn't make out what they were trying to say."

Tifa ran her slender hands through her hair.

"Strange," she said. "I hope it's nothing."

I laughed, "Yeah, me too."

Tifa turned back to her liquor shelves. She had quite a selection of the finest spirits that often helped me—and sometimes Mom—to forget about the troubles that existed outside of the four walls that composed the 7th Heaven.

"You want something to drink?" she asked.

I looked up at her, saying, "Little early to start drowning our sorrows, don't you think?"

"It's never too early around here."

"Sure, why the hell not."

Tifa pulled out two shot glasses and set them on the counter. She reached up onto the top shelf of her liquor display and pulled down a blue unmarked bottle. Taking the cap off of it, she poured the clear liquid into our glasses.

"What is this?" I asked, picking up the glass and sniffing.

Tifa picked up her glass and said, "Shinra Number Twenty-Six Vodka: it's supposed to be named after that failed rocket launch all those years ago."

We both drank the bitter fermented concoction with one gulp.

"Not bad," I commented, wiping my mouth.

"Agreed," Tifa said. "Hey, you sticking around for lunch?"

"I'll come back after I make a few more rounds. I've racked up a few bucks so far, so maybe I'll have enough to actually pay for a meal this time."

She laughed, saying, "You know you'll always have things on the house here, Aeris."

"Thanks," I said, smiling.

We hugged goodbye and I let myself back out into world. I met Tifa when she moved to Midgar five years earlier. Not far from my house was a boarding school for girls; it was there the intrepid entrepreneur was placed following the death of her father back in her hometown of Nibelheim in the western Nibel regions. She didn't say what happened or why and didn't for a long time, even as our friendship deepened. From time to time I reflected on how we met: I missed a bus headed for the same location in which she was headed as well and faced the same dilemma. As we walked we struck up conversation; from there it snowballed. Tifa was my number one confidant, even more so than my own mother.

Walking deeper into the slums, I felt like someone—or something—was watching me amidst the usual hustle and bustle of the local residents. As I made my rounds, I constantly found myself looking over my shoulder, expecting to see some sort of mugger or other "fine upstanding citizen" with some well thought-out intentions on what he or she would like to do to my body. I slowed my pace and did a reality check, scanning every nook and cranny that I could. Out of all the times I had wandered into these desolate areas, this time didn't feel right.

That's when he grabbed me.


	3. The Easiest Day Was Today

Before I could scream for help a gloved hand slipped over my mouth while an arm wrapped around my waist and quickly pulled me off into a nearby alley and behind an abandoned warehouse. I struggled with little success: whoever this guy was the epitome of strength. A low, deep voice whispered in my ear, "It's OK Aeris, I'm a friend; I'm not going to hurt you. Please stop struggling."

I stopped moving.

I could feel sweat running down my forehead and into my eyes.

The man asked, "If I let you go, are you doing to scream or try to hurt me?"

I weighed my options. I made up my mind to give him a swift kick to the balls given the first chance and then run like a chocobo with a crack addiction. I nodded my head "No" and anticipated the next move. The mystery man's hand slowly retracted from my mouth and his arm left my waist.

"You look just like your mother," he said gently.

I slowly turned around and came face-to-face with my failed abductor. He towered over me at roughly six feet and an inch with long silver hair that flowed past his waist. His emerald eyes were strongly reminiscent of mine and Mom's, though they looked tired and worn, sleep-deprived even. The man wore a smooth dark gray t-shirt tucked into well worn black jeans and boots. His hands were covered by a pair of form-fitting polyester gloves.

"Who are you?!" I demanded.

"Keep your voice down," he said, bringing his hands up before him. "I'll tell you who I am and then we've got to get out of here. Your mother is in grave danger."

I gasped, "Mom?"

Even though the man was significantly taller and more built than me, I grabbed his shirt with my hands and pulled hard, forcing him to bend forward to keep the fabric from ripping.

I screamed into his face, "Tell me what's wrong with my mother you worthless fuck or I'll rip your dick off and stuff it so far up your ass you'll have to burp to take a piss!"

"My name is Sephiroth Crescent, and can you please stop shouting?"

I released Sephiroth and allowed him to stand erect again. I reached down and picked up my flower basket which had fallen from my grasp as I was being dragged behind the building.

I looked up to him and asked, "Fine; what's happened to Mom?"

Sephiroth shook his head, saying, "Nothing, yet: we must get to the Shinra building before…"

Before he could finish his sentence a loud explosion rocked the city. The explosion was so great the shockwave rattled the dumpster and ground underneath us to the point I almost fell over. Sephiroth stumbled backwards and fell over a discarded cardboard box. I immediately tossed my basket and began running. Sephiroth be damned: that explosion just _had _to do something with Mom. I ran out of the alley and into the chaos-stricken streets of the slums. In the distance I could see smoke rising from the industrial sector followed by large eruptions of fireballs and mako.

Someone had blown up one of the mako reactors.

I immediately began shoving my way through the crowds of screaming masses. It looked like I was going to have to travel by foot. Sirens could be heard throughout the city as another explosion rocked the industrial district. Midgar was powered by eight distributed mako reactors placed in strategic points around the city perimeter; the reasoning behind it was not only load control, but also for emergency redistribution of power in the event of attack from an enemy. Newer models were larger, concentrated models that required complex compounds and containment facilities to protect against outside forces and to retain mako radiation. With land prices being driven up by speculation and mako processing becoming more laborious and hazardous, Shinra was more than interested in finding alternative fuels to offset the cost of doing business.

I ran as hard as I could, dashing in and out of streets, back alleys, and climbing over chain-linked fences. At times I had considered joining SOLDIER, the primary military force that protected our country. From what I heard from those that frequented Tifa's bar, the pay was decent, the missions were interesting, and, with strong perseverance and dedication, I could make it up to their elite unit rank, 1st Class. 1st Class members were a small group reserved for special tactical missions and "wet work," a known euphemism for assassinations, extractions, or other "unpleasant" cleanup jobs. I stopped to catch my breath next to a bakery by leaning on their front window. Panting hard with sweat pouring off of me like a summer's rain, I looked up and saw the Shinra headquarters complex just ahead. It was a massive skyscraper of seventy floors and numerous underground facilities closed off to the public. The building was a towering pentagon shaped structure composed of dark reinforced steel, brick, and numerous polished windows that dominated the size of at least five sports arenas put together.

After gathering up enough energy, I sprinted down the street as cars quickly made their way in the opposite direction. People were trying to evacuate the city or seek shelter. After running for what felt like another ten miles, I made it to the steps leading up to the front entrance of the Shinra building. I leapt up the concrete steps two at a time until I came to the glass entryway. I took a hard tug on the polished stainless steel door handle and nearly fell over—all doors were locked, signifying that the building was on a security lockdown. I immediately began pounding as hard as I could on the bulletproof glass, screaming for anyone to hear me.

After a few desperate minutes, a familiar face came to the door and pushed it open.

Cloud poked his head out and looked around before saying, "What the hell are you doing here? Get in here now!"

I rushed inside as he shut the door and punched a code in on the access pad nearby to reengage the locking mechanism. Cloud Strife was a 1st Class SOLDIER though wet enough behind the ears that they referred to him as "water boy." With light spiky blonde hair and azure colored eyes, Cloud was only a mere year younger than me, yet probably experienced more in the last seven years than I had in two decades. SOLDIER recruited young men right out of high school, educating them and putting them to work early. There was no time to enjoy adolescence—from childhood to manhood in no time at all, dying for a country that forbade them from elections until they were twenty-one. Cloud wore the standard-issue camouflage military battle uniform suited for urban environments with its beige and dark brown colors and prints. We began walking briskly from the door, our boots making respective "clop" sounds in unison.

"Have you spoken to your mom?" He asked as we headed into the lobby.

I shook my head, saying, "No: she was supposed to call me but I haven't heard anything. What's happening?"

"Someone just blew the shit out of the number three reactor. Phones and communications, including cellular, have been out since two hours ago. This whole building is on lockdown and they're not telling us anything."

"Great," I sighed. "Can we go upstairs and see Mom?"

Cloud scratched his head and gave a worried look.

"I'm not sure," he finally said. "This lockdown is different than any other I've ever been in. The elevators are offline and all access to the emergency stairwells is cut off as well."

I looked around the lobby of the Shinra building. With an open-ceiling architecture, polished wood and marble overshadowed by dark, moody colors, I felt more like I was walking into a casual internet café rather than a power company. Workers were busy bustling about, trying to make sense of the chaos outside and contemplating if they should make a break for it themselves through the front door. I asked Cloud to take me to one of the stairway access doors. Upon approaching, I noticed that it was a standard reinforced fire containment door.

"Do you have any materia?" I asked.

He nodded and said, "Yeah, of course; and if you're thinking what I think you're thinking you're out of your fucking mind. Do you know hard they'll bust my balls over it?"

Cloud had apparently honed in on his mind-reading skills. With a good blast of lightning he could take the door off of its hinges; likewise, he could melt it with some fire materia. Unfortunately, there was protocol that always reared its ugly head. Since this was an emergency, I needed to give Cloud a really damn good reason to bend the rules.

"OK, I'll make a deal with you," I said hurriedly. "If you can get me to Mom's floor, I'll make it worth your while?"

"A blowjob?" he asked skeptically.

"No, you ass: a date!"

Cloud sighed and gave an approving nod. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glass globe. Clenching his fist around it, Cloud pointed his other hand towards the door. A magnificent bolt of lightning shot from his gloved fingertips and slammed into the fire door, taking it completely off its hinges. The once off-white door now displayed a prominent charred mark right in its center akin to that of taking an impact from a small explosive device. I figured Cloud would probably get a nasty e-mail about it later.

As we climbed the stairs, Cloud asked, "So… about this date…"

"Do we have to discuss it now?" I asked impatiently.

"Well, your mother _is _roughly fifty goddamn floors above us."

"Just take me anywhere but LOVELESS, I'm sick of that play."

Cloud chuckled, saying, "OK. I'll take you to the 7th Heaven then for dinner."

"Very funny," I remarked.

After another two flights, I asked, "Do you know anyone named 'Sephiroth Crescent,' Cloud?"

Cloud slowed down almost to a complete halt on the steps.

I stopped and looked back at him, asking, "What's wrong?"

"Sephiroth…? Where did you see him?"

"Over near the slums. Why?"

Cloud leaned on the banister and said, "About five years ago he came to my hometown for a mako leak at our reactor. He… he never made it back alive, they said."

"Where were you?" I asked.

"I went on that mission… but… I just don't know."

"That was about the time Tifa came to Midgar, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," he said. "I don't know what happened, Aeris. What did he look like?"

"About six-one, long gray hair, green eyes; he looked middle-aged."

Cloud nodded his head and said, "Yeah, that sounds like him. What did he say to you?"

I took a deep breath and said, "Funny you should ask. He grabbed me and dragged me into an alley; told me that Mom was in trouble."

"And what did you do?"

"Well, the reactor got hit at that moment and I made a run for it."

"Hmm," Cloud pondered. "Wonder what he knows? Let me know if you run into him again."

I gave an OK gesture before we continued running up the stairs. When we got to the thirtieth floor, I was ready to collapse. I took a seat on the landing while I tried to catch my breath. Cloud took a seat next to me and handed me a small vial with a dark blue liquid inside.

"Drink it," he said. "It'll rehydrate you and give your energy back."

"What is it?" I asked.

"A concentrated dose of hydrogen, taurine, and liquid oxygen—it's an energy drink so strong they won't sell it on the normal market unless you know who to talk to or are a professional athlete. Around here we call it the 'elixir.'"

I swirled the liquid a little in its vial before gulping it down in one swig. It was best that I did: the taste was beyond unpleasant. However, Cloud was right about restoring my energy in record time. I tossed the now-empty vial down the stairs.

I coughed and wiped my mouth, commenting to Cloud, "That shit tastes like goat spit mixed with urinal cleanser."

"Yeah, it's not exactly the tastiest," Cloud said. "Some dump about three cups of sugar in it just to make it almost tolerable. You ready?"

I nodded, "Let's get moving."

We continued trekking up the stairs. Finally, we reached our destination: the fifty-second floor, research and development or better known as its initials "R&D." Cloud walked up to the door and cut the wire controlling the electronic locking mechanism with a pocket knife. Pressing down on the door handle, he pulled the access door open and allowed me passage first. The R&D floor was composed of a mishmash of offices, cubicles, conference rooms, and computer labs. Fluorescent lights blasted everything in sight with penetrating white light in an effort to eradicate the world of darkness. The dark gray carpet could've doubled as sandpaper—or the greens of a golf course after the fairway—which only reinforced the fact that Shinra's executives only wanted the best for their peons.

"Come on," I said, making a brisk jog towards Mom's office on the other side of the building.

Cloud followed close behind.

The researchers and engineers stayed glued to windows and turned on televisions in an effort to see what was happening outside. Some tried calling out to Cloud to try and get more information. When we arrived, Mom was pressed up against her window looking towards the giant plumes of smoke in the distance. Upon seeing me in her office doorway, she quickly rushed over.

Throwing her arms around me, Mom said excitedly, "Thank God you're safe Aeris! How did you get here? Where were you? I was trying…"

I interrupted her with, "I'm OK Mom; Cloud let me in. He, uh, had to destroy some company property but I needed to know you weren't hurt. What's going on?"

Mom let go and gave Cloud a reassuring, but worried, smile, saying, "Thank you so much, Cloud; if your superiors pitch a fit, I'll vouch for you and they can deal with me."

Cloud brushed it off and said, "It's no big deal Miss Gainsborough, just doing my job."

Mom sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know what's going on, sweetheart," she said. "The phones don't work and I think someone's knocked out the cell phone towers as well. All internet communication is down as well. All we do know is that someone attacked a reactor. But… something's not right, obviously. Normally they would usher us into the bunker below the building while a whole building sweep takes place. But Doctor Davis ordered a complete lockdown of every floor below the sixtieth."

The sixtieth floor up to the top was the executive suites with the company president and chief executive officer, President Shinra himself, on the top. It came as no surprise that they would restrict the movement of those below in case of the need of a speedy getaway. Doctor Elena Catherine Davis, Ph.D., was the Chief Operating Officer as well as Vice President of Research and Development. To say that she was a bitch with more sand in her vagina than could be found under the Gold Saucer would be an understatement of exponential proportions. I hated that woman not only because of her cockiness, but because of her ruthless pursuit of personal gain with no regards for others.

"I think Aeris met Sephiroth," Cloud said to Mom. "He grabbed her in the slums."

Mom gasped, "Is this true, Aeris?"

"Sort of," I said uneasily. "He said you were in grave danger and we had to get out of here."

"Son of a bitch…" Mom whispered.

"What's this about, Ifalna?" Cloud asked. "Is Sephiroth really alive?"

Mom shook her head and leaned on her desk, saying, "If he is… that can only mean one thing…"

"What?"

Mom looked up, all color drained from her face.

"Beatrix," she whispered. "She's still alive."

Cloud took a step back, obviously triggered by something in his mind.

He breathed, "Beatrix…"

After a few moments of processing, he continued with, "You mean, Dr. Beatrix Monroe… the scientist that came to Nibelheim with Sephiroth?"

"She wasn't just his escort, Cloud, she was his _wife_."

"Wait… what are you two talking about?" I asked, interjecting. "Who is this Beatrix lady and what does she have to do with Sephiroth?"

Before anyone could answer, Mom's name was called out from the elevator. We turned to see Dr. Davis holding the stainless steel doors to keep the car at the floor.

She yelled, "Ifalna! The president needs to see you, NOW!"

"We better go," Mom said. "Come on."

Together, the three of us rushed to the elevator where Dr. Davis impatiently waited. Once all in the car, the good doctor slid her access card through the card reader and selected the top floor.

"Nice to see you again, Aeris," she said in her most plastic version of warmth.

"I'm sure," I said flatly.

Dr. Davis turned to Cloud and said, "Has SOLDIER started the sweep?"

He shrugged in response.

"It's kind of hard when you guys keep locking the doors on us," he replied.

"Useless," Davis uttered under her breath.

Dr. Davis was a tall, slender woman with short, bright blonde hair parted to cover the top left half of her face in an attempt to either make a fashion statement or prove that she didn't know the first thing about utilizing those tricky things called hair brushes. I guess if they came with owner's manuals she would fare better. In another world, her brown eyes would be quite beautiful and enchanting; in this one, they reminded me that we all couldn't grow up to be kindergarten teachers. Her dark, navy-blue business suit gave off the impression that the only person that was going to see any action below the belt would be her gynecologist.

The elevator dinged upon reaching our destination. The doors slowly opened and we walked out to the president's secretary stationed behind a mahogany desk with granite top. Without hesitation she released the lock on the glass doors that provided access to the stairwell up to the president's mezzanine. We quickly walked up the marble steps with its royal purple runner until we were in the presence of the president's large desk. Multiple monitors, control panels, and a .45 magnum occupied the surface of his workspace. Flanked by four marble columns that reached from the polished floor to the ceiling, Shinra picked up his gun, pushed out the cylinder and proceeded to load six gold-jacketed bullets into their respective chambers.

"Miss Gainsborough," President Shinra said. "We need your help."

"What is it?" Mom asked.

He sighed, "It's Beatrix."

Mom almost fainted. I turned to Cloud who expressed a somber outlook.

My day just became a whole lot more interesting. And it wasn't even lunchtime yet.


	4. Follow

Shinra was such a little prick, even in a time of despair. The man was roughly the same height as me with the exception that he was three hundred pounds heavier and forty times uglier. What little blonde hair he had left found itself kept at the base of his polished skull as well as his thick moustache below his large nose. His beady blue eyes reminded me of a housewife being caught in the act of blowing the electrician by her husband.

"What do you want me to do, Mr. Shinra?" Mom asked.

Shinra put his gun into a shoulder holster inside of his red three-piece suit and said, "You and your daughter are going to be stationed in a level not many employees get the so-called luxury of seeing. Elena, I want you to coordinate a full sweep of the building with SOLDIER. Ask for more members if you have to: we're not paying exorbitant amounts to the government to rent these guys out just to stand around and look pretty. Since our phones are down, you'll have to get creative on getting the word out. Speaking of which, Strife: who is your commanding officer?"

"Angeal Hewley, Mr. Shinra," Cloud said. "He was scheduled to be on call at this facility today."

"Good; we're going to need him. Can you open access to the security room, Elena?"

Davis nodded, saying, "Of course, Mr. Shinra."

Shinra reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key ring and tossed it to Mom.

"Insert that into the fire operation lock and turn it all the way to the left," he said. "Then, press the fifth floor twice, then the eighth, then the second. The doors will close and will make a nonstop trip to a secure lab down below until we can get Beatrix under control. She may be looking for you, Miss Gainsborough, based on Faremis' relation to that project."

Mom gave a solemn nod and said, "I guessed as much."

"Now go, quickly! There's no telling how fast she could be making her way to the building as we speak!"

Cloud immediately escorted Mom and I to the elevator where he pulled the doors open and ushered us inside.

"Please be careful," Mom said.

"I will, Miss Gainsborough," Cloud replied.

"I've told you a million times you don't have to call me that; you can call me Ifalna."

"I understand Miss… I mean, Ifalna."

Cloud stepped back and ran down the stairs to the level below the mezzanine. Mom inserted the key and proceeded to press the buttons in the order as she was instructed. As we were told, the doors closed and the elevator car began to move. Mom leaned against the wall, pushing her bangs out of her way and adjusting her velvet red business suit.

"So… who's Beatrix and what does Dad have to do with her? Is she the reason you won't talk about him?" I asked.

She sighed, saying, "I'll explain when we get out of here, Dear. Right now my mind is in too many places to piece things together."

"Convenient."

"Aeris…"

"No, it is," I protested. "Every time I ask you about Dad you always avoid it like I'm asking you about your sex life. Especially why we don't have the same last name as him even though you two were married—at least I hope—and why I've never seen so much as a _picture _of him."

Mom rubbed her face.

"I know… I'm sorry. It's just… it's just that it's real difficult to explain," she said sadly. "I promise, though, once this situation is under control, we can sit down and I will explain everything from top to bottom."

I sighed. Mom wasn't the one to break promises, but this sounded too good to be true.

I looked over and asked, "Mom?"

"Yes Sweetheart?"

"Who is Sephiroth Crescent?"

Mom gave me a strange look for moment while she collected her thoughts, like she was unsure she heard me correctly.

"Sephiroth?" she clarified.

I nodded, saying, "Yes, Sephiroth. I met him today in the slums…"

Mom immediately grabbed my shoulders.

She took a deep breath before asking, "What did he look like? I… I have to make sure…"

I took my mother's hands off me and held them, saying, "Calm down, calm down. He was about six-one, long silver hair, green eyes, and middle-aged. He said that we had to get you out of here because you were in danger, at least that's what he said."

Mom trembled some. The fear in her voice was resolute.

"So… it _is _true… you weren't lying; he's still alive. Then… oh God… Aeris, we have to find him as soon as we get out of here."

I looked at her perplexed and asked, "Why?"

She shook her head and said, "I'll have to explain later; I'm so sorry."

It seemed that with each passing minute I was being left with more questions than answers. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternal descent into the pits of Hell—or traveling to Mideel the _hard _way—the elevator came to a stop. With a subtle ding, the doors slid open to a massive underground floor of an office. Each room was partitioned with glass walls and steel beams; air conditioning was piped throughout the whole floor. Even though we were under the surface, the decorative style of black, steel, and chrome was reminiscent of a blockbuster movie take on secret a government office.

There were numerous employees milling about in dress shirts, ties, slacks, headsets, and computers. These were people that I had never seen before. Judging by the look on Mom's face neither had she. As soon as we stepped out of the elevator, a skinny redhead with wavy hair down past her shoulders dressed in black three-piece business attire approached. Strangely enough, she seemed to recognize Mom.

"Ifalna?" the girl asked.

Mom looked at her carefully before realizing who it was.

She almost shrieked, "Cissnei! What are you doing down here?"

Cissnei smiled warmly and said, "Remember that new job I said I took? You're looking at it. Right under your nose, huh?"

"I'll say. What _is _this place?"

"This is an emergency bunker that isolates us from the top level. There's an access tunnel that leads to a central hub under the capitol building; other buildings of significant importance also hook up there, like for VIPs and such. The room you're standing in now is the security facility for all Shinra complexes, including mako reactors. We're trying to wean ourselves off of relying so much on SOLDIER since they cost so much to rent."

"What kind of security do you maintain?" I asked.

"Cameras, trip sensors, employee logs, and a terror network," Cissnei explained.

"Terror network?"

"Oh yes," she said obstinately. "People like AVALANCHE cause so much damage and threats, costing people countless lives through their sabotages. This latest attack is different, though."

Mom asked, "How so?"

"Normally, we have paid informants that help keep tabs on terror groups. But up until today, they weren't reporting anything new in AVALANCHE. Surveillance didn't report any mysterious activity. That is, until our security systems at that location went offline and telecommunications went out."

"So how did you know it was this Beatrix lady?" I asked.

"Before the entire system went out, we managed to get a small segment of surveillance footage transmitted," Cissnei explained. "Facial recognition software as well as testimony from President Shinra and… 'Other' important members of the executive team confirmed it as such."

"Can we see the video?"

Cissnei became uneasy.

"I'm not sure," she said. "It might be confidential."

"I don't think it's going to matter anytime soon, Cissnei," Mom said. "Go ahead and show us the video. I… I want to see it for myself."

Cissnei swallowed hard and gave a slight nod. She motioned us to follow her into a conference room. Inside, a glass rectangular table occupied the center with six black leather swivel chairs on each side and one at the end. A flat-screen television lowered itself from a hidden compartment in the ceiling. Cissnei walked over to a nearby computer stationed in one corner of the room and began typing. The screen lit up to a solid blue screen until it cut away to a color surveillance video of the reactor that exploded on the edge of the city. The camera was a wide angle shot towards the glass door of a control room. In front of it was the shop floor for the plant. For the first few seconds everything seemed docile.

Then a body flew through one of the large reinforced glass windows of the control room.

There was no audio—probably for the best—but something massively violent was occurring off-screen. Blood was being splattered on the walls, door, and windows. One worker dressed in overalls and a hardhat desperately tried to make an escape through the door but was caught in the throat by a protruding slender sword. He stopped immediately in his tracks and fell forward onto the door, stopping in place on the push bar.

Then she came into view with her massively long sword by her side.

Mom gasped, "Beatrix…!"

The woman in the video had long flowing silver hair that reached down to her waistline. Her black, almost skintight leather uniform was held together with four red buckles with another one above her bust below her red collar. A brown belt wrapped itself around her waistline where a holster containing one menacing .44 magnum was located on her left side. Her biceps were protected by metal bracers that went from her shoulder and stopped just far enough above her elbow to allow it to bend easily. Her gloves were bloody and worn as were her boots. When Beatrix looked at the camera, I felt a hole in the pit of my stomach.

The woman was very beautiful with her large jade eye that was akin to mine and Mom's. However, where her right eye should be, were circuitry and a red optic sensor that appeared to be hardwired into her brain. She dragged her sword by her side loosely like she was a lost soul, weighted down by the burden of her own existence. After a few moments of staring at the camera, Beatrix removed the black cold steel revolver from its holster and obliterated the camera.

"That… is Beatrix?" I stammered.

"Yes," Mom said. "She was Sephiroth's wife and a brilliant researcher for Shinra Scientific and Pharmaceuticals when the company still had that division."

"What happened?"

"She doesn't know?" Cissnei asked.

Mom shook her head, saying, "No. Since it looks like we're going to be down here awhile, I guess it wouldn't hurt to start from the beginning."

I looked at Mom and asked, "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that bad feeling I had earlier, would it?"

"I don't know, Sweetheart; I just don't know."


	5. Miss Murder

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay-I'm working on my master's thesis at the moment and so writing has been a little slow _-_

* * *

"Do you know who Jenova is?" Mom asked me.

I nodded, having learned about the alien from the Cetra libraries.

"Yes," I said. "She was the alien who crashed into this planet via a meteor over two thousand years ago into the North Pole. The Cetra gathered there to heal Gaia and encountered Jenova. The alien tricked the Cetra into thinking that it was friendly and was allowed to assimilate into their group. From there, it introduced a virus to help procreate and sustain the alien. The Cetra fought back and managed to seal Jenova there in the crater."

Mom nodded, saying, "Correct. What you didn't know is that your father discovered Jenova as part of an expedition conducted by the government twenty years before you were born. He was a post-doctorate in biology looking for ways to improve soldier performance without the need to extended training or conditioning. His team found Jenova inside the geological stratum where the original Cetra had left it. By mistake, he labeled Jenova an Ancient.

"A hypothesis was created that, based on interviews with Cetra scholars and geneticists, Jenova's cellular power could provide the boost that the government needed. The cells were shown in laboratory results to generate much more throughput using the cell's mitochondria as well as demonstrated increased strength and adrenal levels in laboratory animals. From what your father told me, things looked promising. Early human test subjects resulted in positive readings, but the government wanted more."

Mom sighed, "About a year after the discovery, Doctor Bayard Hojo, the most evil little cunt I have ever met—putting it politely—volunteered his protégé, Doctor Lucrecia Crescent, to be the first host for a procedure that would change the world forever. Hojo impregnated her and then introduced Jenova cells directly into the womb. The idea was that through early development and growth into adulthood would result in performance peaks never before seen by anyone. More so, it would make Hojo look superior to your father, whom he despised greatly. Lucrecia gave birth to Sephiroth in June of 1952. About that same time give or take a month, another child was born—Beatrix Maloney—to an unknown set of host parents. She, too, was entered into the Jenova program.

"Sephiroth and Beatrix grew close growing up. Beatrix went on to earn a doctorate in biomechanics and biochemistry while Sephiroth became the highest-performing SOLDIER the world has ever seen. He was unstoppable in terms of skill, close-quarters-combat, and weaponry. The sword given to him was the Masamune by the Cetran Governing Body of Academia in appreciation for his contributions to their research and preservation in planet studies. It is a sword forged out of metals that have no scientific classification, magically hammered with eons of the Cetra's secrets. They said it was the first time in history that a non-Cetran was able to carry such a weapon. With the training, technique, and skill required to wield it, many were surprised to see how adept Beatrix was when she was seen practicing with it once in the field. What was stranger was the fact that she never asked for a military escort on assignment, even when dispatched to hostile areas."

"Was it ever assumed that Beatrix may have been another attempt at the experiment?" I asked.

"Rumors were spreading," Mom continued. "Sephiroth's biological father was not disclosed to the public—at least, not for many years, and even then it was a vicious scandal—so the idea was kicked around that perhaps another child was produced."

"By Lucrecia?"

"Not exactly, but to be honest, nobody can be sure. Doctor Crescent disappeared not long after Sephiroth's birth, never to be seen again. The only man who would know took that secret with him to his grave: a man named Grimoire Valentine. Doctor Valentine coordinated with the Cetra academia body a massive archeological dig concerning a mysterious mutation that was introduced into the Cetra race centuries ago. Lucrecia was Grimoire's lead Ph.D. advisee and headed her research committee. After her disappearance, Grimoire was killed in a lab explosion: nobody knows if it was an accident. His son, Vincent, a member of the government's Department of Administrative Research, tried investigating his father's death to no avail. In the end, he disappeared as well with official records listing him as deceased."

I nodded and said, "OK, so how does that tie into Sephiroth and Beatrix?"

Mom explained, "Sephiroth was granted access to his files, much to the dismay of some, at an early age and became acutely aware of the many differences he was as compared to the others. Beatrix, on the other hand, was raised normally. Well, relatively: she was a prodigy, excelling in all subjects, both scientific and liberal arts. It is unclear if Sephiroth shared the same exceptional IQ that she did but he wasn't stupid by any means—his IQ ranked to that of your average tenured college professor by the age of twenty."

"Why wasn't she given access to her files?"

"I'm not sure, dear," my mother sighed. "I think the idea was to monitor behavioral differences between the two. As they learned later, this would backfire immensely."

"Go on."

"About five years ago in the town of Nibelheim—the same hometown that Tifa and Cloud hail from—was suffering from a malfunctioning mako reactor. Sephiroth was dispatched along with Beatrix and a few others from SOLDIER to assess the situation and investigate whether it was a terrorist sabotage. Beatrix's role was to take it offline completely. Normally, an engineer would be dispatched to perform such a duty. However, Shinra insisted that this reactor was a very sensitive reactor and required special clearance and training or risk an explosion. Unfortunately, the hazmat engineering team that normally gets dispatched to these calls was fighting a meltdown on the other side of the world. Given the seriousness of the issue, Beatrix was given the green light.

"In Nibelheim, there stands an old mansion on the edge of town on the access road through the mountains that leads to the reactor nestled in Mount Nibel. Prior to Nibelheim's expansion, there was once a research compound hosted there. As such, even though the compound doesn't exist anymore, the mansion remained: Shinra kicked around the idea of selling it off to a hotel chain or using it as an executive resort. Something happened in that mansion."

"What?" I asked.

"Beatrix must've found something… something that told her about who she was. There's a secret stairwell to an underground library in there. She must've stumbled across it by accident. Beatrix went insane and attacked everyone inside of the mansion. Reports say that Sephiroth smashed the right side of her face with it right in her eye in an effort to neutralize her. Instead, it just pissed her off. Sephiroth had his own sword rammed through his chest right under his ribcage. Beatrix burst out of the mansion and started killing everyone she saw, hacking and slashing like a deranged killer. When she discovered that Sephiroth's sword had materia in it, she tried setting the whole town on fire. One SOLDIER opened fire on her and caused her to flee towards the reactor. It was said that Sephiroth stumbled out of the mansion with his gun in hand and shot Beatrix in the back before collapsing on the front steps. Reports said he bled out there and was dead on arrival."

"Somebody lied," I said. "And Beatrix, what about her? What does she have to do with you?"

"When she was brought back to Arcryllian, she was in pretty bad shape. Obviously, she had lost all function of her right eye and some of her scalp was missing due to the acid. The amount of blood she lost weakened her greatly—thankfully—and they were able to sedate her. It was decided that maybe her mind could be salvaged; if not, she would either be locked away in an isolated asylum or executed. Because of your father, I was asked to participate in the therapy sessions with Beatrix."

"Wait… because of Dad? What are you talking about?"

Mom was silent for a moment before she spoke.

"Your father was the one who established the Jenova project, sweetie. He made the original hypothesis about Jenova's cells and the boost they could give. As such, even though the womb introduction was Hojo's idea, your father wouldn't allow it to proceed without his direct involvement. Gast knew that Bayard couldn't be trusted; the disappearance of Grimoire and his son is evident of that enough. I told Beatrix all that I knew and tried to work with her to get through this. In the end, all it did was make her even more unstable, even to the point where she was placed on an around-the-clock suicide watch. When your father…"

Mom trailed off.

I sat there for a few moments before speaking up, "What about Dad?"

She lowered her gaze, saying, "Aeris, your father disappeared, much in the same way that Grimoire and his son Vincent did. You were only two when it happened. Every time Beatrix looked at me during the sessions she couldn't help but start crying uncontrollably like she knew something. I don't want to think that Faremis is dead—I haven't heard his voice when talking to the Planet—but she knows something that is obviously causing her a lot of grief. When it was evident that there was no recovery for her, they sent her up to a high-security research complex in the Forgotten Capital. One year after she was placed there, Beatrix successfully broke out of her cell. After murdering several staff members, the whole placed was turned to dust: apparently, in the event of an escaped research subject of that magnitude, the only logical thing to do was to make sure that nothing with a pulse made it out alive. They found her body and decided to bury it onsite with not so much as a headstone."

I whispered, "Goddamn…"

"I'm sorry I never told you about what happened to your father—I thought it was better to keep silent about it than to spoon-feed you bullshit stories that I knew you wouldn't believe."

I rubbed my face.

"So," I said solemnly. "I guess Beatrix is looking for you because she wants to tell you what happened?"

Mom shook her head and said, "I don't know what she wants. For all I know, she could've been ordered to kill me, too. I honestly don't want to be around to find out."

"By the way… what about Sephiroth?" I asked.

She sighed, saying, "I don't about that either. If he tries to contact either one of us, then I think it would be prudent to hear what he's got to say. I knew it sounded too farfetched for him to die… especially without going out in a blaze of glory."

Mom cracked a slight smile as she reminisced about a memory she didn't share.

I sighed and massaged my forehead, wondering what next glorious activity was going to fill up my to-do list.


	6. Scars and Souvenirs

Cissnei was called away to an emergency phone call. Mom and I stayed glued to a local television set where the local news kept a constant feed on what was going on. SOLDIER continued a sweep of the city and encouraged all citizens to be on lockdown as if this were the worst terrorist attack ever seen. Fire departments and Shinra's hazardous materials response team worked under tight security to contain the fire and mako contamination.

"I wish we could go home," I sighed.

Mom gently caressed my hair, saying, "I do too, honey."

Cissnei burst through the entrance of the conference room where we were sitting.

"They've found her!" she exclaimed.

We both stared in disbelief.

Cissnei continued through excited breaths, saying, "She's… she was at the accident site. They had her surrounded…"

She swallowed hard.

"She's… gone."

Mom's eyes widened. She barely managed to say in a low voice, "Are you saying…"

Cissnei nodded, saying, "They opened fire. She's dead, Ifalna."

Mom's jaw dropped open to which she immediately covered with her hands. I sat in mere disbelief at the events that had transpired that day. I ran my hand through my hair, my bangs falling back into place, and tried to make sense of it all only to fail miserably.

"You can go home now," Cissnei said. "We'll give you an escort just to be safe; God knows what else is going to happen today."

Mom shook her head, saying, "Take Aeris home; I… I want to see Beatrix."

"No," I objected. "I'm staying with you, Mom."

"Sweetie, you can't. This is something I have to do by myself."

"I don't know if you'll be allowed to," Cissnei said. "I'll give you a call when everything is under control. She's currently being transported to an undisclosed location as we speak."

Mom sighed.

"Fine," she said. "Who's going to take us home?"

I piped up, "How about Rude?"

Rude was a member of the Department of Administrative Research, a fancy name for internal affairs. A Costa del Sol native, Rude, already seven years my senior, towered over me at a staggering six-foot-two with a subtle muscular frame hidden under his navy blue three-piece suit. Extremely shy, stoic, polite, and firm rolled into one nice, neat, tanned, bald package. Rude was often identified by constantly hiding behind his sunglasses due to his self-proclaimed social awkwardness. Even so, he was always willing to bend over backwards in the most discreet ways for people in order not to draw attention to himself. For that—and the support he had given me over the years—earned him a very special place in my heart.

Cissnei smiled and nodded.

"Good idea," she said. "He makes for great cover if you end up getting shot at."

"Oh, Cissnei," Mom replied, rolling her eyes.

I found out later that Cissnei had once harbored a crush on the predominately silent coworker. Unfortunately, because Rude is such a tough nut to crack, getting him to garner any interest in her proved fruitless. As such, she became just a tad hostile towards my friend.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding; I'll go see if he's available."

Cissnei left the conference room and made her way to a nearby desk.

I turned back to Mom and said, "We should check on Tifa—make sure she's OK."

Mom nodded, saying, "Good idea."

She then smiled, adding, "Maybe you can get Rude to ask her out on a date this time."

It was a little known fact—short of being plastered all over billboards and broadcast on television—that Rude harbored a crush on Tifa the size of the country's debt. However, Rude being typical Rude was too shy to directly come out and admit to Tifa that he really liked her and would like to take her on a date. Tifa had a good speculation how much he fawned over her but was too shy herself to act upon it herself. Like a fanfiction in the making, the two were at a proverbial standstill. Rude's best friend and colleague, Reno, often made obvious comments that were meant to bait the two into a conversation that would lead to one of them finally breaking down and saying, "Damn it, would you like to go have dinner sometime?"

"Doubtful," I sighed. "Maybe I could get him to by shoving a cattle prod up his ass."

Mom continued her motherly smile.

Before long, our chauffeur appeared being lead by Cissnei. Rude was dressed in his typical daily suit which reeked of professionalism and sexiness. I almost giggled at the thought of giving Tifa an ultimatum: if she didn't ask Rude out, I would.

"Hi Miss Gainsborough, hi Aeris," Rude greeted us warmly.

I looked up into his shades and asked seductively, "Rude, have I ever told you how sexy you look?"

Rude's olive skin immediately flushed as he began to stutter, trying to come up with an appropriate response.

Mom got up and took his arm, saying, "Don't mind her, Rude—she's just teasing."

Rude gave a slight nod and finally uttered, "Th… thank you."

We were escorted to the above-ground parking garage. Rude drove a sleek two-door sports coupe that was black in color and about as polished as his immaculate shoes. Rude pulled a latch on the back of his passenger seat and leaned the backrest forward. I climbed in the back and settled into the beige leather interior. Mom settled into the passenger seat while Rude walked around the front of the car and got in on the driver side. He started the engine and began to pull out of his parking space.

"We need to go to the 7th Heaven, Rude," Mom said.

Rude nonchalantly responded with "Little early for me to start drinking."

"No you goofball: Aeris wants to make sure Tifa's alright."

Some of the blood began to rush back into his cheeks and I could see some mild sweat forming on the back of his bald head. He could be so cute when he was embarrassed, which wasn't hard to put him in the spotlight. Even though he was incredibly strong, Rude's face was warm and curved gently. His black goatee, the latest addition to give people an idea what his original hair _was _like, and his numerous ear piercings gave very subtle insight into how he viewed himself: clean, yet imaginative.

Mom's anxiousness to talk to Beatrix had piqued my interest but I wanted to wait until we were out of the building to begin asking sensitive questions. Once we pulled out onto the street, I felt it was time to bring the matter forward.

"Mom, why did you want to see Beatrix?" I asked. "Wasn't she supposed to be, you know, dead, in the first place?"

"That's what I thought, at least that's what I was told," Mom replied. "They showed me photographs and even took blood samples to prove it was her. Whether they were actually verified or not, I don't know—as far as I'm concerned she made it out of the facility alive and blew the damn thing up herself. But, in the event that she is, was, whatever… dead, I've heard stories of apparitions appearing in physical form before spawned of the Lifestream but this… no, I don't want it to be _this_…"

"What do you mean?"

"If Beatrix's hatred, anger, her very insanity, forced the Lifestream to expel her back into the physical realm—as farfetched as that sounds—then we're in big, big trouble. If she didn't die in the first place, then where the hell has she been all these years? And how or why did she show back up here in the midst of a terrorist attack? Was it a terrorist attack? We're left with more questions than we are answers."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Rude asked.

"Yes," Mom said with a nod. "When you get back to the office I want you to get out the file on Beatrix, Sephiroth Crescent, and the Jenova project. They should be locked up in the old science ward where the government hosted the majority of their laboratories and research centers. Somewhere in there is an archive that should have all of that. I highly doubt that any of it got moved into a government facility—not where anyone could find it so easily, at least."

We continued the rest of the journey in silence until Rude pulled into a parking space in front of the 7th Heaven. Killing the ignition, he and Mom got out first. I pushed the seat forward and escaped the cramped backseat. The air was still strong with the foul stench of mako. Inside, I could see Tifa talking to a customer. The look on her face, however, told me that whatever conversation this was it wasn't a good one: she had been crying recently if she wasn't already in the process of. Rude opened the door for us and we stepped inside.

Tifa turned to us in utter silence.

Sephiroth turned on his bar stool—dirtied from where I had pushed past him in the alley—and took a long drink from his beer bottle.

"It's about time you showed up," he said. "I was just showing Tifa all of my latest scars and souvenirs."

He immediately noticed Mom.

Sephiroth nearly leapt off of his seat as he exclaimed, "Ifalna!"

"Sephiroth?!" Mom exclaimed in returned.

They shared a tight hug as Tifa wiped her eyes. Rude silently sauntered over to a barstool down the line and took a seat. Mom and Sephiroth parted.

"Your daughter is quite the warrior," he said, smiling softly. "She kicked my ass quite well."

I replied flatly, "You fell over a box."

"A strategic move, no doubt."

Mom tried to regain herself; she said, "Why are you here? I thought you died… where have you been? Fuck… I have so many questions…"

"Let's sit down Ifalna. We've got much to discuss."

"I'll say," I said. "Starting with Beatrix."

"_Especially _Beatrix, and none of it's good I'm afraid."

It never was.


	7. Daydreamer Nightmare

Mom and Sephiroth were situated at the kitchen table while Tifa and I sat next to each other in my living room. Rude graciously dropped us off before continuing on to his task bestowed upon him by Mom in order to get more background on Beatrix. Tifa hadn't uttered a word since seeing her at the bar unlike Mom and Sephiroth who shared an ongoing conversation about numerous topics: his whereabouts for the past several years, the situation at hand, and me. Out of it all, Tifa's mood troubled me the most; it was painfully apparent that she had some history with the silver-haired warrior that was in the next room.

"You okay?" I asked her quietly.

Tifa shook her head and wiped her eyes.

"I can't believe he's still alive," she said after a few moments of silence.

"Sephiroth?"

She nodded.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's the story between you two?" I gently prodded.

Before Tifa could answer we were both summoned to the kitchen by Mom. Upon entering, she gestured for us to sit down as she got up.

"I'm going to make us something to eat," Mom said. "Sit down. Sephiroth would like to share something with you."

Tifa glanced at me before taking a seat to the right of the former SOLDIER; I sat across from him in my usual chair. Sephiroth was reclined back in the wooden chair with his right arm resting on the table, a glass of sweet tea in his hand. This time, the gloves were off, and his rugged hands were exposed: a large tattoo of the number zero shown on the hand that held his drink.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't meet under more desirable circumstances, Aeris," Sephiroth said. "I really wish it could've been different."

"Me too," I said. "You know, you could've just bought a damn flower. That's a conversation starter."

"Nah: you already deal with enough nutjobs out there."

"Maybe so, but your method didn't exactly start me off with a good impression."

Sephiroth nodded, saying, "Again, I apologize. Unfortunately, we've got bigger fish to fry at the moment."

"No shit," I replied.

Mom sighed before turning to me.

"Aeris," she chastised. "Be nice."

"Fine," I said passively. "So who exactly are you and why aren't you dead?"

"I'm the byproduct of a twisted science experiment that your father helped coordinate involving Lucrecia Crescent and Bayard Hojo."

"Hojo? Mom says he's quite the scientist."

Sephiroth laughed.

"He wanted to surpass your father," he said. "In my honest opinion: he couldn't surpass that of a high school chemistry teacher. He's a very evil, sinister little prick. I'm honestly surprised nobody has killed him yet."

I gave a slight nod, saying, "I see. Tell me what happened in Nibelheim. And…"

I looked over at Tifa who was staring down at the table.

"…how do you know Tifa?"

Tifa closed her eyes and began to weep silently.

Sephiroth drank the rest of his beverage. He set the empty glass down and reached into his pants pocket.

"Is it okay if I smoke, Ifalna?" he asked.

Mom nodded as she finished preparing our meal.

Sephiroth pulled out a soft pack of smokes and pulled out a cigarette. With a quick wrist-jerk motion, he flipped open the cap on his metallic lighter. After igniting the nicotine source and taking a deep drag, he began.

"Five years ago we were sent out to Nibelheim over on the other continent in order to secure a malfunctioning reactor. Your mom told you it was a particular reactor but she didn't tell you why. Turns out daddy-dearest was using this reactor as a staging laboratory for exposing SOLDIER members to extreme levels of mako. If Rude manages to find the files your mother sent for, there should be some images of the result of these experiments. Anyway, the town was nestled in the mountains for which it was named for: Mount Nibel. The access road that lead up to the area had been closed off after a recent rockslide so an alternate route had to be taken. Tifa's father…"

Sephiroth sighed and looked over at Tifa.

He asked her, "Are you okay with me discussing this?"

"I'll be fine," she whispered.

Sephiroth took another drag on his cigarette, tapping his ashes into his empty glass.

"Tifa's father was the town's authority on utilities. As it was, he was in charge of ensuring that all Shinra personnel were escorted to the site unobstructed. His daughter was following in his footsteps and had just come of age. He thought it would be good experience to send her out with us to make it to the reactor through the woods and trails since it would be another six weeks before the road would be repaired. She was the best tour guide I ever had."

Sephiroth gave a slight smile as he said, "She was so pissed when I told her she couldn't come in the reactor though. But Beatrix snuck her in anyway."

"The mansion used to be a front for a laboratory there in the town—a forgotten relic in Shinra and, in retrospect, a huge liability. In the basement of the mansion is an underground complex complete with laboratories, research archives, and offices. It's built inside the mountain and only accessible by an access tunnel from a bedroom on the second floor. We had heard rumors about how to get to it; Beatrix, being the adventurous one, was determined to find it. She thought it would be fun to see if she could dig up dirt on the company—an insurance policy if you will—in order to build up some job security. It took about four hours, but she did it. I didn't really care much for exploring the lab so I left her to her own devices. That was probably my biggest mistake."

I asked, "What happened?"

Sephiroth said, "It was about the third day of our assignment, about bedtime. We were staying at the inn in town; because we were married at the time we had our own private room. She had with her an old spiral-bound binder that looked like it had seen better days. I asked where she got it: she said she found it in the library in the lab. She said something urged her to get it, which wasn't unusual: as long as I had known her she was always drawn to certain things, like she was being 'directed'. In any case, I didn't think anything of it and went to bed. Beatrix said she wasn't sleepy yet; said she was going to stay up and read this book that she found. I woke up about four hours later—nature called—and noticed she had left the room. I figured she must've gone downstairs to the vending machine. The next morning when I awoke, she still wasn't there."

Sephiroth snuffed out his shortened cigarette.

"I went downstairs," he continued. "Manager wasn't there, which I thought was a little odd. I checked behind the counter and in the office-slash-kitchen area and didn't see anyone. I went back upstairs and checked on the SOLDIER grunts that were assigned to me for security detail."

"Was Cloud one of them?" I asked.

Sephiroth gave a half smile, saying, "You two know each other, huh? Small world after all… yeah, he was a fresh one, still in diapers compared against normal standards. We were short-handed, it was his hometown, decided it'd be best to bring him home and let him check in with his mother. Him and another boy—Johnny, also a Nibelheim native—were lacing up their boots for the day. I asked them if they had heard or seen anything strange: they hadn't. I told them to follow me outside when they got dressed. When we emerged, it was like walking into a ghost town. Something didn't feel right. I told the kids to start evacuating the town quietly and get as far away as possible after they call in for support. I had a hunch things were going to go south fast and time was not on our side. Like Beatrix, I sometimes felt something pull me, whisper to me, or encourage me mentally; this time, I was drawn to the mansion. Maybe it was the Jenova cells inside of me, maybe it was my intuition, or maybe it was a death wish… I'm really not sure.

"I made it into the mansions grand foyer. There in the center was a staircase leading up to a landing and then to the second floor. In the center before the stairs was Beatrix sitting in a wooden chair. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were damp from sweat, and there were papers, books, reports… all sorts of stuff strewn in a perfect perimeter around her. I asked her what's wrong. She looked up at me, tears running down her face. She told me that we were both monsters, byproducts of an experiment we now know as the Jenova experiment. The only difference was the files she had access to were mere copies with vital information blanked out. Yet, it was enough for her to piece together that her life was a science experiment gone wrong. Everything began collapsing around her: her memories, our love, her past… She immediately lost her shit. Beatrix attacked me with such ferocity that I barely had time to react. Her strength's potential became unlocked to something that wasn't normal for a woman of her stature. I was thrown across the room into the chair in which she was originally sitting. I rolled over to a large bottle of hydrochloric acid: apparently she was going to commit suicide by drinking it and let it dissolve her internal organs. I looked over and saw she was picking up my sword. Even though I was married to her—and loved her with all my heart—I knew I couldn't let her hurt innocent people. I picked up the glass bottle and threw it at her as hard as I could after I jumped to my feet. She turned just in time to capture the impact in her right eye socket. The damn thing shattered on impact and probably took out a chunk of her skull. I remember her screams and the large amounts of blood and smoke as she kicked open the front mansion doors and made her way outside.

"Out there, Tifa's father was running towards the mansion. During the evacuation Cloud must've mentioned where I was at. That poor man was no match for Beatrix, even though she was now blinded in one eye and severely injured. When I saw his body there was a huge…"

Sephiroth stopped himself and pushed his chair back.

"Excuse me," he said, rising.

Silently, he picked Tifa up like a small child in his arms and sat back down, cradling her in his lap. Tifa rested her head on his shoulder and cried while the emerald-eyed man rocked her.

"You probably know the rest of the story," Sephiroth concluded. "As far as the rest, well… Tifa's dad was her last immediate next-of-kin. Since I was heading back to Midgar I volunteered to make her my ward. For my protection and for her safety I asked to be, how you say, 'erased.' That way, those who wanted to cover this mess up completely wouldn't know where to start looking for me."

Tifa whispered, "I thought they got you…"

"Not yet, sweetheart," he said softly. "I had to leave you to protect you. I'm here now."

Mom finished fixing lunch and served it after Tifa managed to regain her composure to an extent. From what I gathered, Sephiroth immediately stepped into a role that he was not prepared for after traumatically losing his wife to insanity, yet he took it like a champ. What he was hiding from, though, at the time remained a mystery. Whatever the case was, it was time to come out of the shadows and protect the one he pledged he would protect. I could tell from the mere vibes of his character that he cared about Tifa in such a way that he would probably consider her his own adopted daughter; I'm sure the feeling was mutual between the two. There were still much more to uncover and I only hoped that Rude could return safely with what Mom commissioned him with to find. There were just too many questions and not enough answers.

The daydream of leading a normal life had now succumbed into an ever-evolving nightmare.


	8. A Beautiful Lie

Tifa was lying on the couch covered in a light blue blanket my mother provided. She was sleeping softly as Sephiroth, Mom and I sat in the kitchen.

"Thank you for the wonderful meal, Ifalna," Sephiroth said with a tired smile. "I haven't eaten that good in a long time."

Mom smiled in return, saying, "You don't need to thank me. We all needed a distraction from… from this day."

The silver-haired man then turned to me.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," he said.

"I do," I said. "Look, I know we've just met and all, but… this is a lot to take in at one time."

"I understand."

I took a swig of soda that I had swiped from the fridge.

After a hard swallow, I asked, "How do I know what all are you saying is true? How do I know this isn't some fucked up conspiracy involving my dad? What about Mom and her role in this?"

"Aeris!" Mom scolded.

Sephiroth waved her down and said, "No, Ifalna; she's right."

Silently he pulled off his stained gray shirt exposing his muscular, yet scarred, physique. One scar in particular—a large, smooth curve right above his navel on the right—caught my eye.

"Remember when I said I was thrown across the room?" he asked.

I nodded.

"She didn't do it with her bare hands."

Sephiroth shifted in his seat and showed me his back: the remnants of the exit wound remained. I sighed, relieving some doubt. The battered soldier put his shirt back on and sat back in the chair.

I looked down at the tabled and asked, "I guess my first question is… how do you know my mom? You were born in 1952, right? I know Dad was a good bit older than her when I was born, but…"

He smiled gently.

"Your mother and I met by a chance encounter through the program when we were young adults. She was a college student and I was a test subject; you could say I was her guinea pig for awhile. We struck up a friendship and that was that. Unfortunately, our schedules were very hectic and I was being shipped all over the place, especially during the materia wars, so we weren't able to see each other much physically," he said.

I turned to Mom and asked, "Were you friends with Beatrix? I mean, you obviously know who she is."

Mom lowered her gaze and replied: "Yes… we were best friends. When I saw her after the accident in therapy… she was not the same woman I knew. The Beatrix I knew died a long time ago, I'm afraid."

"Is that why you want to see her body?"

"Kind of… her body needs to be obliterated honestly, preferably incinerated along with Jenova."

"Speaking of which," Sephiroth said. "Any speculation on that alien being the root cause of this fiasco?"

From the tone of his voice, he was referring to something else.

"Fiasco?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you should tell her about what else your father did," Mom said to Sephiroth.

He sighed, saying, "Ah, yes: the delusional little prick of a sperm-donor. As with any experiment, not everything was a success. This tattoo I've noticed you looking at on my hand…"

Sephiroth held up his right hand and displayed the mark in question.

"…marks success. I'm number zero, the root of them all apparently."

"So all of the ones who were successes got a number? What about the ones that didn't?" I asked.

"In the beginning Shinra and the feds just wanted to kill them and dump the bodies in a landfill. Hojo wanted to just release them back into civilization for some reason. These individuals who are the unlucky ones demonstrate symptoms of extreme mako poisoning without the added effect of cancer. Now the locals are… shall we say, 'getting restless.' Given the fact that Beatrix made it this far to town means something is happening with Jenova, and it's not good."

"Jenova's in the Shinra building, right?" I asked.

"I think so," Sephiroth said. "Where is another story… I hope Rude can make it in and out okay."

Mom nodded, saying, "Me too."

I turned to Sephiroth and said, "I have another question."

"Shoot," he said.

"Do you know whatever happened to Dad?"

He shook his head solemnly.

"I'm sorry, dear," Sephiroth said. "Your guess is as good as mine. When I heard that he disappeared, I feared the worst. Maybe he's still out there somewhere, though, so don't give up hope."

"I think it's a little late for that, I'm afraid."

Mom kissed the top of my head and gently rubbed my back. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"You said earlier that you were surprised Beatrix made it this far to town," I said. "You mean you were following her?"

"To an extent," Sephiroth explained. "I don't exactly know where she originated from. I wasn't even sure where her destination was, to be honest. To the normal passerby, she just seemed like another vagrant or ex-SOLDIER finding their way home, unknown that she's a killing machine. I should've took her out when I had the chance, but it's strange… something wouldn't let me. Instead, I was forced to follow."

"That is weird," Mom remarked. "Jenova?"

"I wouldn't doubt it. That's another key difference between Beatrix and me: something inside of me can control most of her influences and mental interferences. It seems that there is a very small population that can overcome this meddling that the creature does. Others, however, can succumb to full-blown mania, schizophrenia, or personality detachment. Unfortunately, that's the least of our worries."

"What is, then?" I asked.

"Have you ever heard of the Black Materia?"

I thought for a second.

"No… I can't say I have," I responded.

"The Black Materia is a materia used to summon Meteor. Meteor, if you recall from your Cetra history, was the cornerstone in defeating Jenova as it essentially knocked the shit out of her long enough to be sealed there in the crater at the North Pole. Jenova knows this and has waited for a long time for the ability to get her grubby what-the-fuck-apparatus-tentacle-thingies on it in order to cause an injury to the Planet."

I blinked, asking, "Why?"

"Jenova apparently comes from an alien race that leeches off a planet until its resources are no more or the alien is unable to sustain its own life on it" he said. "In either case, the alien then summons whatever life force drives that planet and reenters the universe, searching for a new host. It's like a combination between a virus and a house squatter. Since ours is the Lifestream, what do you think would be a quick way to break open this rock and have access to the goods inside?"

"I see what you mean. But why now?"

Sephiroth shrugged and said, "I don't know. She might've been waiting for the world to be so conflicted that they wouldn't be able to unite to stop her. That's something your mother and I have been worried about for a long time; yet, nobody else seemed to give it much merit. Anyway, the thing managed to bring Beatrix back from the dead or, according to your mom, back from whatever hiatus she was on. If that isn't an indication that she's serious about fucking this place up, I don't know what is."

"Is that why you said we were in danger and Mom was so anxious to see you?"

"In more ways than one: we're still not out of the woods yet. There are more secrets that can be exposed through this incident once people catch whiff of it. Needless to say, your mother and I make perfect scapegoats, especially since I'm supposed to be dead."

Just then, the phone rang. Mom picked up the cordless phone and pressed a button to answer.

"Hello?" she asked. "OK, hang on."

She set the silver handset on the kitchen table and pressed the speakerphone button.

"Go ahead, Rude," Mom said.

In a hushed tone, Rude's voice emitted from the handset: "I found the lab, and it's not abandoned. Hojo is here as well. What do you want me to do?"

"Stay right there," Sephiroth said. "I'm coming to you."

I added, "I'm coming to."

"No, sweetie; you need to stay here with Tifa," Mom objected.

"What's going on?"

Tifa's voice broke everyone's concentration. She leaned on the refrigerator as she wiped sleep from her eyes.

"Rude's in an underground lab at Shinra right now and Sephiroth is going to meet him. I want to go too."

"I'm going too, then," she said. "You're not leaving me again."

"Why don't we all go? Might as well get in big trouble together," I suggested.

"You two aren't going to take no for an answer, are you?" Sephiroth asked.

Mom nodded, saying, "Yeah, they're pretty stubborn."

"We'll be there ASAP, Rude," Sephiroth said. "All four of us."


	9. Lost and Found

There was some sort of feeling between Mom and Sephiroth that had made itself eerily apparent to me over the course of the day. As the afternoon slowly gave way to evening, I had my arm propped on the car door's interior next to the window. Tifa sat beside me in the backseat while Sephiroth drove Mom's car; Mom sat in the passenger seat. In the movies, often the protagonist is told that they are forbidden from assisting in any matters that may concern them and, as is the case, they end up coming along anyways without anyone else's knowledge. The fact that Sephiroth and Mom didn't put up much objection puzzled me at first. However, I discounted it as recognizing that Tifa and I were adults capable of making our own decisions.

Besides, this wasn't the first time we had done something reckless and crazy.

While we rode in silence, I analyzed the relationship that Tifa and Sephiroth potentially shared in Midgar. I didn't get to question him more about the details or why Tifa seemed so attached to him. There was also a peculiar protective vibe that she emitted which hinted at something deeper. Mom, on the other hand, viewed Sephiroth in a way I had never seen her do before. Growing up, my mother never dated other men, instead limiting herself to raising me and her work. Now, her emerald eyes held a certain spark in them, like something that was once missing had been found.

I brushed it off as my silly imagination getting the best of me again.

Sephiroth turned to Mom and asked, "Is the emergency access tunnel still accessible from Market and Square?"

"I think so," she said. "I know they have the road blocked off for reconstruction."

"Are they working on it today?"

"It's almost five o'clock, so I'm sure they've left already."

We drove through downtown. Citizens walked the sidewalks as they often did. People shopped, ate, conducted business, or tried to make their way home back to their families. Tifa was lost in thought gazing out her window; I gently tapped her on her bare leg.

"Hey," I said. "You still okay? What about your bar?"

Tifa smiled weakly, saying, "It'll be fine."

She squeezed my hand gently.

Sephiroth pulled into a parking garage and picked an inconspicuous spot in the corner next to a large blue pickup truck.

Turning to us, he said, "You girls better get ready. This could get ugly quick."

"What's the plan?" Mom asked.

"We need to get in there and see what's going on. Something tells me that Hojo has something nasty up his sleeve. We're going to drop down into the sewer and hoof it from there to the emergency access door to the underground tunnel that leads to the lab. I just hope that it isn't being patrolled…"

"I don't know if it is or not. What do we do if we're caught?"

"We'll just play it by ear. I also took out an insurance policy just in case we did run into trouble."

"What kind of 'insurance'?" Mom asked.

Sephiroth smiled, saying, "I called in a favor from a friend. Now come on, let's get going. We need to stop whatever Hojo plans on doing with Beatrix. If he's involved, then that means that it's connected to Jenova in some way."

We exited the car as Sephiroth popped the trunk open. I retrieved the two pieces of my staff and locked it together. Tifa put on her fighting gloves and tightened the laces on her sneakers. Mom, now dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black tank-top, quickly pulled her hair into a long ponytail before slipping black Wutai Arms P99 9mm she kept hidden in her nightstand drawer into a belt holster attached at her hip. Mom and I had been competition shooters for a long time; it was our way of giving into our tomboyish natures. It was one of my lifetime goals to achieve a first place trophy to go next to hers. Sephiroth placed his foot onto the bumper and lifted up his pants leg, revealing a black and gray FN Five Seven semiautomatic handgun, the standard issue sidearm to all SOLDIER personnel, resting comfortably in an ankle holster with a small flashlight attachment in a separate sleeve. After removing the gun from its home, he slipped it into his back waistband out of sight.

"Ready?" Sephiroth asked, closing the trunk.

I rubbed a layer of cold sweat off the back of my neck and asked, "Are we… are we going to kill people?"

"Unless we have to," he said. "Let's lay down some ground rules. Number one: limit speaking; number two: be aware of your surroundings; number three: no magic unless I tell you otherwise; and number four: if you're surrounded, surrender peacefully. With luck, we can get in and get the fuck out. Understand?"

We all nodded.

"Good. Get moving," Sephiroth barked.

I wasn't a killer nor did I want to become one. Granted, I was no stranger to violence; however, the act of ripping someone's life from their body and sending it back to the Lifestream was not something I looked forward to. Putting my feelings aside, I quietly jogged with the others to the exit of the parking garage, our footsteps leaving soft echoes throughout the rows upon rows of vehicles. Sephiroth stopped us at the sidewalk and peered out. The street that the garage was located on was off of the main thoroughfare; there was hardly anyone walking these streets. Our destination was less than a block over which could be easily reached through back alleys, staying out of the public's eye. As the sky turned purple, we quickly crossed the street and started shuffling through the back alleys.

When we arrived at Market Street, it was closed off as Mom had said. Large orange construction barrels blocked all access on both the sidewalk and road itself. The manhole cover which led to the sewer was located fifty feet from the exit of the alleyway which we were currently situated in. Sephiroth took my rod and ran over to the manhole lid. Using my weapon as a pry-bar, he lifted the large metal cover up onto its side and caught it in his hand. With a quick glance around to make sure nobody was paying any attention, Sephiroth motioned for us to hurry.

Mom ran first and climbed down into the sewer below as quickly as she could, followed by Tifa, then me, then Sephiroth, who slowly let the cover down into its resting place. I stepped off the ladder onto a brick walkway next to Mom and Tifa. Sephiroth slid down the ladder and reached down to his ankle where he removed the flashlight attachment. After attaching it to his gun, he turned it on. The channel of sewage that separated us from the other side was an unpleasant color and texture with an even more hideous stench that arose from it.

"Whatever you do," Sephiroth said. "Don't fall into that shit. We're going to need to get some gas masks due to the methane levels. If I recall correctly, there should be a utility room just up ahead."

"Lead the way," Mom replied.

Sephiroth took the lead, walking as quickly as he could while maintaining a high level of caution. Mom brought up the rear, always looking over her shoulder to make sure that nobody got the drop on us. The musty brick walls of the sewer were sprawled with moss and construction graffiti, noting areas where pipes were and other components that required maintenance. We halted at the first bend as Sephiroth quickly motioned us to flatten ourselves against the wall as he turned off his flashlight. Voices and shuffling of feet could be heard before a loud splash echoed throughout the underground tunnels.

"Stupid fucker," one voice said, deep and accented like the speaker was from the southeastern end of Myceden.

A second, lighter voice laughed, saying in a similar accent, "Yeah, I know. Too bad Tony didn't get to join in on this threesome."

Number one snorted.

"I agree," he said. "Oh well, maybe the next one?"

"I don't see why not. Come on: let's get back to the lab. Professor is probably waiting on us."

Two sets of footsteps made their way further into the sewers until a door could be heard opening and closing. Sephiroth peered around the corner in the darkness before switching back on his flashlight.

"Wait here," he ordered to us.

Just as silent as he was swift, the warrior slipped around the corner. Within a few seconds, Sephiroth called out, "Clear."

We quietly made our way around and caught up behind him. Sephiroth pointed his flashlight into the facedown body floating by in the current: it appeared to be a man dressed in a white lab technician smock. Without hesitation, our unofficial tour guide of Midgar's septic system got down on his knees and reached out for the dead man's collar. He managed to pull the wet, shit-covered corpse onto the walkway and rolled it over.

Tifa gasped as I stared in absolute horror; Mom said nothing. I pushed myself up against the wall, feeling a numbness overcome my legs. I had seen dead bodies before—being a flower girl, I was often subject to trying to peddle my wares in some really nasty neighborhoods—but this… this was unreal. I had never been so close to one before and, unfortunately, as time would tell, I would be seeing a lot more in the future.

The man's face had been blown right off of his skull with a weapon of some caliber. Bullet holes riddled his body in other various locations. Sephiroth ripped off his identification badge and wiped it on his pants before reading it.

"Whoever this was has some high clearance," he said without looking up. "We can probably use it to get around. Come on."

"What about his body?" I asked.

Sephiroth stood up and shoved the body back into the current with his foot.

Without a word we continued forward. I could still hear Tifa's shallow, sporadic breaths, as if she was in shock from what she saw. Likewise, I felt like vomiting.

"Hey, it'll be ok," I whispered to her.

Tifa gave a small nod and tried to get it together.

"You seem to be holding up well," she commented.

I took a deep breath and said, "I feel like I'm going to throw up."

Almost immediately as the words left my mouth I leaned over and puked onto the edge of the walkway. Mom asked me if I was all right. I spit out the remnants of my stomach contents that remained in my mouth and said I would live. After progressing forward a few more yards we came upon the gray metallic service door. Sephiroth slowly put his hand on the handle.

In a hushed tone, he spoke: "I don't know if they've got security cameras around here. For all we know, they could even have them down here in the sewer. If you see one, try to stay under it. Do not, under any circumstance, try to destroy it or obstruct it. Got it?"

Without waiting for an answer, he pushed down onto the handle. A soft click and the door opened outward, exposing a narrow concrete-walled hallway with a smooth gray floor flanked by whitewashed blocks. A long, smeary trail of blood snaked its way down the center and over the threshold into the sewer; its source was yet another door at far end of the corridor.

Recessed fluorescent lights emitted a gentle hum overhead as we quietly gathered on the opposite side of the door. Sephiroth slowly shut the door back into place and took the lead. The passage was roughly fifty yards in length and wide enough to accommodate three people shoulder-to-shoulder. This was definitely an emergency evacuation route for people of great importance in the Shinra building. The far door was a reinforced steel door made to look like it could withstand a few direct hits from a cannon the size of a full-size pickup truck. Sephiroth gripped the handle and gently pulled, opening the door slightly.

"Seems to be computer-controlled," he whispered.

Mom stepped to the other side of Sephiroth to where she could look out the door. Her gaze shifted for a second before her eyes widened.

"Rude!" she shouted in a hushed tone.

Within mere seconds, Rude pushed past the small opening Sephiroth allowed and shut the door back in its place. He immediately took off his glasses and dress coat.

"What are you doing?" Mom asked. "What's going on?"

"Get ready for the shit to hit the fan," he said as he ripped off his tie and white dress shirt, throwing them onto the ground. He hurriedly slipped on a pair of black fighting gloves. "Beatrix is down there and she's very much alive."

Mom gasped, saying, "You're shitting me… Who else is down here?"

"Hojo, some lab assistants, and two guys in different colored suits I've never seen before. Also… Cloud and Zack."

"What are they doing down here?" Tifa asked.

"I don't know," Rude said. "They are acting awfully weird. They just got done murdering Angeal—no time to explain that one—if you guys want to take out Beatrix, we've got to do it now. Otherwise, we've got to get the fuck out of here."

Sephiroth turned to me and Tifa.

"You two…" he started to say.

"No," Tifa said firmly. "I am _not _leaving. I'm staying with you… until the end, like you promised me before. You've broken it once; I'm not going to let you break it again."

"What are you talking about?" I asked her.

"Tifa, please," Sephiroth pleaded. "I… I don't want you to die because of me."

She was crying.

"But you're all I have left!" she shouted.

"Look, I don't know what kind of family issues you two have," Rude interjected. "But we've got to get this show on the road. I hope you have an escape plan."

"You mean we can't just go back the way we came?" I asked.

"This door can only be opened from the outside remotely. There's only one security station that I know of that has its controls, and it's in President Shinra's office on the top floor behind a fake wall."

"Terrific," I lamented. "No use bitching about it; let's go."

Mom pushed open the door and swept the right side of the hallway; Sephiroth followed and swept the left.

"Clear," Mom said.

We ran as fast as we could. The hallway looked more like an office complex with smooth, cream-colored marble walls complete posters of past major Shinra laboratory products and motivational posters. The tiled floor echoed our feet with each hard impact. Ahead, a dark gray pair of fire retardant doors guarded the entryway to the laboratory. Sephiroth ran forward and threw his entire body into one of the doors, flinging it open with such force it broke the retractable arm that, prior, automatically closed the door.

I prayed silently that I was ready to do whatever was necessary to survive. The second Beatrix's eyes met mine, though, that prayer was quickly extinguished.


	10. Cashed Out

The laboratory was the size of a high school gymnasium. The stainless steel walls contained stains of past experiments gone awry; there were numerous examination tables and medical devices strewn about from years of disuse. The mezzanine above contained a windowed control room and a catwalk leading to an exit door. On the far side of the lab was a large clear tank.

Suspended inside was what I knew deep in my heart as Jenova.

The still creature inside looked like a mix between a failed sperm cell and human. Her turquoise skin was smooth and transparent, exposing numerous veins and arteries underneath. A deformed breast occupied the right side of her chest with a dark, oceanic hue of an areola. Where legs should have been were meshed together into an appendage reminiscent of a fishtail. Her face was slightly obscured by a helmet attached to the top of her skull; only her luminescent yellow eyes were visible.

Numerous tubes and cables emitted from the helmet and various parts of Jenova's body and into various machinery surrounding the tube. If the lab was supposed to be abandoned, the section in which she occupied was quite clean and well kept. Beatrix stood in the center of it all, hands by her side, dressed as she was seen on the surveillance video I had watched earlier. Bullet holes had ripped through her jacket and clothing with accompanying blood stains, but I couldn't see any bullet wounds. Beatrix's expression was locked on Sephiroth.

"You…?" she whispered.

"Beatrix!" Sephiroth screamed. "What are you doing?!"

A sharp, weathered voice came from the side, saying, "She's doing whatever her 'mother' tells her to. Imagine, a child doing what their parent tells them to. Something you could never seem to grasp you worthless bastard."

We turned to see a hunched over, older man with thinning long black hair that flowed down his back and thin-rimmed glasses. Though he was slouched, he was still considerably tall and maintained a menacing aura that made me feel uneasy. His white lab coat contained an identification tag clipped to the breast pocket. On it, the last name "HOJO" was prominently displayed next to a biohazard symbol.

I felt all of my breath escape my lungs.

Sephiroth immediately reached out to try and grab Hojo's collar. Within inches of the black dress shirt's fabric a gunshot was heard and a bullet rocketed in between the very small gap between his hand and Hojo's attire. Sephiroth immediately drew his hand back and turned to Beatrix who was still on the other side of the laboratory, now holding a murky-colored semiautomatic handgun with a steady stream of smoke emitting from the barrel.

"All of you: drop your weapons," Beatrix ordered. "Kick them away from you."

We did as instructed.

"Thank you, my dear," Hojo said gently. "I don't think your services will be necessary for the rest of the evening. Go and get some rest."

Beatrix said nothing, instead opting to holster her weapon and exiting the lab through a nearby doorway. Hojo turned to us once more.

"What's going on, Bayard?" Mom asked. "Why is Beatrix here? Why isn't she dead?"

Hojo smiled wryly, saying, "I think the better question is, Ifalna, why you haven't brought your daughter to us sooner?"

"What the hell is he talking about?" I demanded to Mom and Sephiroth.

"You never told her? Well, this certainly _is _interesting. Clearly, your role as a mother leaves much to be desired, Ifalna."

Hojo sighed, "I guess it should come as no surprise that I have to be the one to carry this burden of enlightening people."

Turning to me, he asked, "My dear, have you ever heard of something called the Promised Land?"

I nodded, saying, "Yeah, it's supposed to be a land of supreme happiness; some equate it to a heaven that is strictly reserved for Cetra. However, all attempts to find it have been fruitless—it's lead many to believe it's just a myth or some folklore passed down to make people feel good about themselves."

Hojo laughed, "I am impressed; you did pay attention during your studies. So, it should come as little surprise to you, then, that it is a very selective path for a very selective lineage of Cetra that can only be achieved under certain parameters. That is, a particular bloodline holds the exclusive right as promised to them by God Himself."

"And you think I'm part of this mystical lineage? Why haven't you gone to the Cetra board with this and enlist their help?" I asked.

"What I think is irrelevant; what I know is that the board would not condone this branch of research because of the potential political exploits it contains and the possibility for… shall we say, questionable ethical concerns. I have reason to believe that the Promised Land is a tangible, physical place. The question is: where? I need a guide—a compass, if you will—to help me get to this place."

"And once you get there?"

Hojo tried to contain his laughter as he turned away.

"Well, I don't want to ruin the surprise for everyone," he said coyly. "You will find out soon enough."

I spat at him as Sephiroth extended an arm in front of me for restraint.

"You insignificant little twat," I shouted. "If you think I'm going to help you, you're out of your fucking mind! You'll never be as good as my father! You're a wasted poster boy for birth control!"

Hojo turned to me with an evil glare.

"Your father," he sneered. "Was…"

He trailed off with a conceited humph before looking over to Cloud and Zack who were stationed nearby, apparently awaiting commands.

"Cloud, be a dear boy and take the younger Gainsborough and her well-endowed friend upstairs," Hojo commanded. "I need to have a roundtable with these two."

"And Rude?" asked Cloud.

"Yes, about… where is he?"

Everyone looked around: Rude was nowhere to be seen.

"God DAMN IT!" Hojo yelled. "Zack: escort Ifalna and Sephiroth with me and order a perimeter sweep. Lock down the access to the rest of the building. Cloud: take Aeris and the other young lady to the Shinra building. I doubt that bald monstrosity can get far down here."

In unison, Cloud and Zack acknowledged with, "Yes, sir."

Cloud grabbed my arm and Tifa's and began to lead us out of the lab. I struggled to break free but was unable to break Cloud's strong grip. Releasing my arm he grabbed the back of my hair and dragged me forward. Tifa continued to look back to see Zack, armed with an automatic assault rifle, push Mom and Sephiroth behind Hojo as they walked towards the door that Beatrix exited. Whatever insurance policy Sephiroth promised didn't seem to be working out so far, unless it was Rude's disappearing act.

Cloud finally released my hair and shoved me forward along with Tifa. She fell into me slightly before regaining her balance. As he locked the lab doors behind us, Tifa asked, "Cloud, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Be quiet!" he whispered. "I'll explain in a minute; just play along."

He grabbed my arm and Tifa's and began to drag us forward through the hallway from where we entered earlier. After walking past the doorway that lead to the sewer, a set of elevators was upon us. Cloud released us and fumbled in his pocket before pulling out a small copper key. Inserting it into a keyhole on the elevator's call button panel, he gave a swift turn and withdrew the key before dropping it back into his pocket. Cloud swung his automatic assault rifle around on its sling. After a few moments, a gentle ding was heard and the stainless steel doors opened to a polished wood interior with a glass ceiling and carpeted floor. Tifa and I entered followed by Cloud. He inserted the same key into another keyhole on the button panel and selected the lobby. Once the doors shut and the car started moving, he turned to us. I immediately slapped him in the face as hard as I could, which caused the blonde sentry to fall back into the wall hard.

Holding his face, he exclaimed, "Damn, woman, what is your deal?!"

"That's for grabbing my hair! That hurt!" I shouted back. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm getting you guys out of here. Something's wrong with Zack—he killed Angeal. It's like he's possessed or some shit. Something's not right with me either."

Tifa asked, "Jenova?"

"Maybe… I know I was exposed to her cells but I was also given a different dose of mako treatment."

Cloud motioned towards the glow in his eyes, saying, "You know, the mark of SOLDIER."

"What about Zack?" I asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "We weren't in the program at the same time."

"You mean the Jenova program? Do you have a number?"

Cloud became uneasy, asking, "How do you know about that?"

"Sephiroth told me; didn't you see him with us?"

"I thought that was him, it's… it's just been so long. The last time I saw him he was trying to keep his insides from falling out onto the front porch as Beatrix tried to turn the town into Main Street of Hell."

"I forgot you were there," Tifa said softly.

Cloud nodded, saying, "Yeah… I try to forget those days. I honestly have spotty memories of that day at best."

Suddenly the elevator car came to a screeching halt as the building shook violently, sending us to the floor. The lights flickered violently as alarms began to go off.

Cloud looked up at the ceiling, asking, "What the hell…?"

"Looks like Sephiroth just cashed out," I said.


	11. Silver and Cold

"What do you mean he 'cashed out'? Cashed out what?" Cloud stammered.

"Before we broke in here he said he had some sort of insurance just in case we ran into trouble," Tifa explained. "What, I don't know."

Cloud looked at the doors and shoved his gloved fingers in the narrow space where the doors met. With a loud grunt and much force, he managed to push the doors open to reveal a brick wall: we were stuck between floors.

I took an exasperated breath and uttered, "Fucking terrific."

"Come on," he said. "We'll go out through the maintenance hatch like they do in the movies."

Tifa placed one foot on the large metal banister that lined the wall; she hoisted herself up to the ceiling where she removed the plastic grating that protected the fluorescent lights. Tossing the cheap plastic to the floor, the maintenance hatch door was quickly revealed. With one swift punch the door was knocked open. Tifa grabbed onto the edges and pulled herself onto the roof of the elevator car with ease.

She reached down and said, "Come on!"

Cloud motioned for me to take her hand.

"Ladies first," he said. "This doesn't count towards our date, by the way."

I took Tifa's hand and replied, "You're too kind."

After I joined Tifa on the roof of the elevator car Cloud scuttled up the wall and through the maintenance hatch. We stood and looked up at the heavy cables that controlled the elevator. There were muffled sounds of gunfire and screaming coming from the echoing shaft above. Cloud pointed to a maintenance ladder on the wall nearby.

"Come on," he said. "We better get moving."

We climbed the ladder quickly.

"Don't stop until you see a set of doors marked with a giant letter G, okay?"

"Got it," Tifa said.

We climbed past six floors until we reached the ground floor landing. Tifa and I hung onto the ladder while Cloud maneuvered onto the threshold and prepared to open the doors.

"Just how many underground facilities does Shinra have?" I asked.

Cloud wiped his brow as he slipped his fingers inside the narrow crevice.

"You have no idea," he said.

With much might like before, the two heavy black doors slowly pushed open, allowing barely enough room for us to pass through. There was no telling where Rude had managed to escape to or if he had anything to do with the explosions and subsequent alarms. Even more so, was his escape part of Sephiroth's backup plan? Whatever the case was, chaos had erupted in the Shinra tower. Night had taken over the purple skies that greeted us earlier when we made our way to the sewer; however, given the current panic, flashing blue and red lights painted a very different picture on the buildings surrounding the front entrance. Swarms of employees were desperately trying to make their way outside as a specialized weapon and tactics team—SWAT—made their way in, but to no avail. One segment branched off and started to go to another entryway to the building.

"We've gotta find Rude!" Tifa shouted over the loud commotion.

Cloud looked over at her and yelled back, "Are you out of your damn mind?! There's…"

Another explosion that shook the building interrupted everything. I was knocked off of my feet and into a decorative plant stationed next to the elevator doors. Cloud and Tifa pulled me to my feet. Almost like a mental link was established, Rude's hand grabbed Tifa's shoulders. She spun around in surprise.

"Rude!" she exclaimed.

He looked just as we had last seen him, shirtless and sweaty. I almost caught myself staring at his impressive physique, remembering that all hell was breaking loose around us. Besides, I doubted he would've appreciated being openly raped.

Well, I _guessed_ he wouldn't mind being raped.

Rude thumbed back towards a stairwell and said, "Come on, someone's here to see you."

We pushed through the thinning throngs of scrambling employees until we reached the very same emergency access door Cloud had graciously obliterated for me to get upstairs. It hadn't been repaired yet and was instead left propped up against the wall. We ducked in through the doorway. Upon taking two steps into the familiar stairwell I looked up to see Barret Wallace, Tifa's silent business partner in her bar and the leader of AVALANCHE. With his towering stature and hard, chiseled features, Barret was not one you would like to meet in a dark alley—probably for the reason that he would be stuck. His beard and short, cropped hair were littered with debris and dust. His prosthetic right arm—retrofitted into a short-barreled gatling-gun that could be triggered through his nerve-endings—was bleeding from shrapnel wounds. Barret wore a tattered brown leather vest and stained green pants; stained with what, other than painful memories and nightmares, was anyone's guess at this point.

"Barret…" Tifa said as she hugged him. "What are you…?"

"No time to talk, Tifa," Barret said abruptly. "She's got them."

"Who's got what?"

"Davis. She has Felicia and Fuhito. We have to get out of here; the rest have already evacuated. I've already detonated all the other C4 charges I placed."

"There's a SWAT team coming through the other entrances," Rude said. "We'll need to see if we can get to the parking garage. With all the madness, I'm sure people are scrambling to get out that they won't see us."

"Did you bring your regular arm?" Tifa asked Barret.

He shook his head, saying, "No; didn't think I'd need to be doing anything but killing. Come on, let's go."

"Hold up," Cloud announced. "I can go with you guys as far as the garage. I need to stay here so not to raise suspicion."

Barret motioned towards him and asked Tifa, "Can we trust his spikey ass?"

"It would be a first," Cloud remarked.

"Yes," Tifa said.

"I'll have to take a rain check on that date," the blonde said. "Anyway, to get to the parking garage, we'll need to go up a floor. It'll be easier to bust out a window and jump onto the roof of it."

"Won't that draw attention? Why can't we just go across the lobby?" I asked.

"I don't know if you've noticed but we've got a guy with a gun for an arm in our party: him strolling across the lobby while the police try to bust in would be like an underage virgin dropped off at the child molester ward at the local penitentiary."

With that, we ran up the flight of stairs and onto the next floor. Running through now barren offices towards the opposite side of the building, all I could think about was what Hojo was potentially doing to Mom and Sephiroth. It pissed me off to the point I wanted to rip that shriveled face of his off of his skull and use it to wipe my cunt during the height of my period. When we reached the other side of the floor, Rude kicked open the door to someone's office that overlooked the top floor of the parking deck. Without hesitation, Barret ran at the window full force and leapt through it, shattering the glass but damaging his velocity in the process. Within a few seconds, a loud crashing sound followed by that of a car alarm going off emanated from the area below.

Cloud watched our backs as we gingerly approached the now destroyed window and looked down. Barret was slowly rolling off the now-collapsed roof of someone's car and fell to his knees on the cement. He looked back up at us.

"Come on!" he yelled. "We've gotta go!"

Tifa gave me an uneasy look.

"I'm not sure about this," she said worriedly.

Rude anxiously spoke up behind her, saying, "No time for that now, Tifa."

"Guys… we're about to have company," Cloud said. "You better either jump or get ready to be taken prisoner, and I highly doubt I can get you out of this one."

"Fuck it," Tifa sighed.

She took a running jump and hurled herself out the window. With a crash similar to Barret's, she impacted the sunken car on her feet and somersaulted off onto the ground where she rolled a short distance before stopping on her back. Without a word Rude grabbed me by the waist and threw me out the window. I screamed profanities all the way down to the point of impact; almost as immediately as I hit the ever-more-crumpled car roof, I was quickly dragged off. Mere seconds that I was cleared off the landing point Rude's body impacted the car one last time. The impact was great enough that the trunk popped open. As he rolled off the trunk, he uttered something along the lines of being "too old" for "this shit." The often-quiet admirer of Tifa certainly had quite a vocabulary tonight.

"Come on," Barret said, lifting me up.

Rude dragged himself to his feet and we took off across the parking lot. Sirens and more flashing lights began to surround the building as blockades were being erected. The employees that were fleeing flocked to their cars in droves and got the hell out of there as fast as they could.

Barret announced to us, "We need to get back to the bar!"

"We need a ride," Tifa said. "Can we carjack someone?"

"No; we need something inconspicuous."

Rude had an epiphany: "How about the bus?"

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"No, he's right: the bus will be perfect," Barret commanded. "There's a stop not far from here. Come on, let's go."

We ran down the concrete stairwell of the parking deck until we reached the city street. A large crowd had formed outside of the building as the police and SOLDIER tried to maintain control. Quietly, we worked our way onto the sidewalk and began briskly walking away from the Shinra complex. The bus stop in question was one hundred yards ahead at the intersection.

"Think they spotted us?" Tifa asked.

"I don't think so," responded Barret.

The stop was empty when we got to it. Tifa and I took a seat on the black metallic bench while Barret and Rude rested against a light pole.

"Let me guess," I said to Barret. "You're the insurance policy?"

Barret surprisingly laughed.

"I guess you could say that," he said nonchalantly. "Sephiroth and I have history together. I met him many years ago after an accident in my old hometown. When he came to Midgar, he helped me get the bar up and running before Tifa got old enough. I'll tell you the whole store sometime if you want to hear it."

"I'd like that," I said, smiling.

"Heads up, here's the bus."

The large white transit unit pulled up to the curb and opened its doors. We filed in while Barret dropped some gil into the payment box and slipped some to the driver to keep his mouth shut. We took our respective places on the silver and cold seats, each breathing a sigh of relief and settling in for the ride.

"Don't get too comfortable," Barret said. "We're not out of the woods yet."


	12. The Clincher

When we arrived at Tifa's bar, the 7th Heaven, the place was packed with regular patrons. Working the counter was Wedge, a short, portly man roughly Barret's age. Barret often remarked that Wedge was "as tall as he was round" when not affectionately calling him a "slow fat-ass." Dressed in a stained t-shirt and white apron over it, the AVALANCHE henchman waved to us as we entered.

"Close it up!" Barret yelled.

Taking his cue, Wedge announced to the crowd that the bar was closing due to security. It had been done before numerous times prior for other instances so the regulars were used to it. The ones who objected got Barret's hand on the back of their collar and dragged out of their spot and shoved towards the door. After the last patron exited, Tifa pulled down the metal security shutters and locked them into place on the windows and doors.

"Aeris, you're looking lovely as always," Wedge said, giving a bow.

I tried to smile.

"Thanks. Busy tonight?" I asked.

"Exceptionally, I would say. We heard what happened; I'm sorry about your mom. Everyone's downstairs waiting."

I felt nervous. This was the first time I would actually be in an official AVALANCHE gathering and thus easily be made an accessory to the fact. The mere notion that they were desperate enough to hold a meeting during the height of a possible oncoming sweep of martial law meant that they were, at least to me, desperate to figure out what's next.

Barret's downstairs studio apartment consisted of different facilities placed in different corners: one corner held gym equipment and a punching bag; another held Jessie's workbench, computer, and tool rack; another was a bed with a simple nightstand and alarm clock; and the last one was a sink with a mirror. The toilet and stall shower were kept in a converted storage closet. In the center of the room was a round wooden table where the other members of AVALANCHE were seated. Jessie, the resident technician and demolitions expert, sat closest to the door. She was a very beautiful, shy girl that found her niche in science and technology. With fair skin, long auburn hair kept up in a high ponytail, and light brown eyes, I often imagined she was the nerdy girl that sat at the front of the class and didn't have many friends. Jessie was a tough cookie, though, by Barret's account at least. Next to her sat Biggs, Wedge's best friend. Biggs was, by all accounts, the least groomed one of the bunch. His dark brown hair was a mess held above a bandanna tied into a headband while his stubble often had dirt and cigarette ash lodged in it. Biggs' deep brown eyes often gave the hint that he was on edge—whether by personality or by the use of some narcotic was beyond anyone's guess—but he was dependable.

I took a seat next to Jessie. Her cyan shirt was stained with oil and blood as well as her pants.

"I hope that's not yours," I commented, nodding towards the blood stains.

She looked down and smiled.

"Nope, just some poor schmuck that was in the wrong place at the wrong time," she said. "How are you doing, Aeris?"

"I could be better."

"I know. I'm sorry about your mom. Rude told us."

"Yeah," Biggs chimed in. "Don't worry, doll: we'll get her and the old man back."

Barret, Wedge, Tifa, and Rude took a seat. Barret detached his gun and rolled it towards Jessie's workbench, leaving a small trail of oil behind it. He reached under the table and produced his mechanical prosthetic hand and attached it. After flexing his mechanical fist and ensuring that the interface was still functioning, the meeting began.

"As you all know," Barret said gravely. "Those jackasses managed to get Felicia and Fuhito. They were unable to get that damned alien out."

Jessie asked, "How? They were supposed to have full access."

"Seems someone tipped off security. Rude says he found Lazard's body tossed into a dumpster."

Wedge sat back in shock.

"Is that true?" he asked.

Rude nodded silently. Even though the apartment was air conditioned, sweat dripped off of his body.

"So what do we do now? We've got to get them back!" Jessie exclaimed.

"It's not so simple, I'm afraid," Rude said. "Turn on the TV."

Barret took the remote control and flipped on the rear-projection large-screen television set. It was already set to the news. A public address was being given by the mayor at, Frederick Domino, inside the city hall press room. Domino was a tall, pasty-skinned man with a bald head and large-rimmed glasses. Behind his oak podium, he was flanked by Dr. Davis of Shinra.

"…warrior Beatrix Monroe. We originally thought she perished in an accident at one of Shinra's facilities but were mistaken. Rest assured: Shinra is current investigating any other incidents across the country in the past few months to see if there is any correlation. On that note, I will now turn this over to Dr. Elena Davis of Shinra. Thank you."

Domino stepped aside and Davis stepped up to the microphone. She laid papers out onto the podium and looked up into the crowd, adjusting her designer rimless glasses as she cleared her throat.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," she began. "For the past decade, we have been under constant attack from an eco-terrorist group under the moniker 'AVALANCHE.' Tonight, that very same terrorist group attempted an attack on the Shinra building in an attempt to retrieve the remains of Doctor Malone for purposes that are unknown at this time. As such, the ringleaders of this organization—Felicia Morrow and Doctor A. Fuhito—were captured by our dutiful SOLDIER organization. They are currently being held in an unspecified location and will be dealt with accordingly. We have reason to believe that the country of Myceden has had a vested interest in AVALANCHE and provided the group with equipment, money, and people. We have presented our evidence to the President for a decision on whether to go forward with a formal war declaration."

"DAMMIT!" Barret screamed as he slammed his non-bionic fist onto the table.

"This is bad, really bad," Wedge said. "Now what are we going to do?"

I sat in silence as everyone tried to gather their perspective. Questions swam around me like a school of fish; I was unsure whether this was the appropriate time to be asked to be filled in on the missing details, like who this Lazard character was or what all AVALANCHE had done now that I was—seemingly—completely accepted into the inner circle.

Biggs spoke up, saying, "I say we lay low, you know? We obviously don't need to draw any attention to ourselves."

"What about Fuhito and Felicia?" Jessie asked. "Not to mention Sephiroth and Aeris' mother?"

Bickering and arguments continued until Barret slammed both fists on the table.

"ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he shouted.

Everyone turned and stared without uttering even a breath.

"As of this moment, I'm taking charge as per protocol," Barret continued. "All decisions are to be made by me. First, we need to get Sephiroth and Ifalna."

"Why do they get priority?" Wedge protested.

Jessie punched him in the arm while Barret and I gave a dirty look.

Barret pointed to me and said, "She didn't ask to be a part of this, dipshit! You think she woke up this morning and decided to get hip-deep in this bullshit?!"

Wedge gave a confused look.

"But I thought… never mind," he said abruptly.

I looked over at Wedge who shied away from my glances, like he was hiding something. I looked over at Tifa: she was staring straight ahead at Barret. Barret, on the other hand, wiped a load of sweat from his brow. He looked like he had just dodged a bullet.

"Everyone: go home," Barret finally said. "Get some rest and reconvene here tomorrow night. They'll probably have extra patrols so be careful. Aeris, I'm awfully goddamn sorry about all that's happened to you, I promise."

"I believe you," I said softly.

With a somber look, Barret said to Tifa, "I'm sorry to you, too, Tifa: I know Sephiroth means so much to you to the point that he's the last shred of sanity you've got left to hang onto given what happened back then."

Tifa nodded silently.

She looked at me and wiped her eyes.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go up to my place and have a drink."

It sounded good to me—the clincher that was the mess we had entered seemed to be tightening its grip every waking second. That being said, any brief release from it would be a welcome vacation.


	13. Little White Lies

Tifa's apartment was a modest studio flat above the bar. Smooth white walls with a black accent on the appliances and countertops reminded me of the condos I would look at it the high rise magazines while waiting at the doctor's office or dentist. The kitchenette was on the far end with a doorway leading to the bathroom right next to it. The living area occupied the corner of the building that faced the front of the bar, left of the door when entering. Tifa often slept on a pullout bed that was built into her cream-colored stuffed couch. Being girls, whenever I spent the night it was not uncommon for us to share the bed. From my experience, to say the least, it was almost better than mine.

Tifa unlocked the steel door and pushed it open. Flipping on the floor lamp as she came in, Tifa tossed her keys onto the end-table beside the couch. She walked to the kitchenette and opened a cabinet.

"Want a margarita?" she asked.

I shut the door and took off my red bolero to hang it up on the coatrack on the wall.

I called back to her, "Sure."

As Tifa got out the tequila, ice, and blender, I continued dressing down. I undid my ribbon and pulled apart my braid, letting my long brown hair relax.

I asked, "Can I borrow one of your PJs?"

"Yeah," Tifa said. "You remember which drawer they're in?"

"Yeah… I mean, the worst that can happen is if I stumble across your vibrator or something."

Tifa gave a tired smile as she dumped ice into the blender. I walked over to her dresser and pulled open the middle drawer where she kept her nighttime attire and intimates. I pulled out a pair of dark blue silk pajamas and matching pants. As I started unbuttoning my dress, Tifa asked, "How're you holding up?"

"Numb," I said flatly.

It was true—I honestly felt like a sack of sand. My mind continued to digest all that had happened. Now that Mom and Sephiroth were taken prisoner, not to mention that war was now number one priority of the whole country, all my thoughts could do was swim in a turbulent sea of disbelief, anger, hatred, and confusion. A part of me wanted to sit down and cry while another wanted to kill every single adversary that got in my way as I rescued my mom, including Beatrix.

Beatrix… that woman scared me. There were, as always the case, too many questions and not enough answers. Just like a typical mystery thriller at the local bookstore.

"How long do you think till they come looking for us?" I asked.

"I don't know," Tifa said. "Given the insanity that was going on, we may be on the back burner."

"I wonder if they're watching my house."

"They've probably been watching it. Although… I guess we could ask Rude. I highly doubt he's going back to Shinra, especially after being seen coordinating with us."

I hadn't considered that prospect. A lot of asses were now on the line because of some very bad people who wanted me to submit to their will. I wasn't going to be naïve to the fact that they were just going to stop with Mom and Sephiroth: too many people had seen too much and needed to be dealt with. With President Tuesti issuing a war declaration at daybreak—he had been anxiously waiting for anything to give him credibility to pass it by the Senate and House of Representatives—it would provide perfect cover for a covert roundup of suspected insurgents working for the enemy. Tifa's bar was probably the safest even though it was probably circled as a potential watering hole for AVALANCHE.

Tifa came back with two tall glass margaritas and a salt shaker as I sat on the couch with one leg curled under me.

"I'm sorry: I'm out of lime," she said as she set the bright green drinks down onto the coffee table in front of the sofa.

I smiled softly, saying, "Don't worry about it."

After changing into a long red t-shirt that went past her rear and a pair of light blue boxer shorts, Tifa joined me on the sofa. We both started drinking and licking salt off our hands.

"What do you think Barret's got planned?" I asked.

"To be honest, I'm not sure," Tifa said, sighing. "Whatever it is, it's going to be dangerous. I don't know if we'll even be able to pull it off. I'm so sorry, Aeris…"

"It's okay Tifa. I figured something like this would happen. It's always my luck."

We continued drinking.

I looked over and asked, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said.

"Well, a couple of things actually, but I guess I'll start with the most obvious: what exactly is your relationship with Sephiroth?"

Tifa was quiet for a moment before she finished off the rest of her drink. She looked down at the floor for the longest time, processing my request. It was apparent that I had hit a nerve somewhere deep inside.

"I guess I do owe an explanation, huh?"

I gave an uneasy expression and said, "It would be nice. I mean, I just want to know what's up since you're my best friend other than Mom."

Tifa took a green throw pillow and used it as a comfort object.

With a deep breath, she started, "I… well…"

Tifa swallowed hard.

"I just can't… not right now… is that all right?"

"It's fine," I said.

As much as I wanted to press further on other matters, such as Wedge's strange outburst and resulting behavior, I could tell Tifa was having a real hard time dealing with some unspoken emotions inside. I decided to wait until she was more stable before investigating further. It was a somewhat strange relationship that she exhibited with Sephiroth, nothing like a "father-like-and-daughter" bond that many would see, nor was it a "sugar daddy" relationship as far as I could tell. Tifa's phone started to ring, putting whatever demons she was battling on the back burner. She reached over and picked up the cordless handset.

She answered, "Hello?"

Tifa stayed on the phone for no more than five minutes, answering only with "Uh-huh" and "OK" at regular intervals. When she hung up, she said to me relieved, "That was Barrett: Rude called him. He says your mom and Sephiroth are safe and that Reno brought him our gear."

"Good," I replied. "Did he say what happened to Cloud? What about the leaders of AVALANCHE?"

"He said Cloud cocked up some story about being caught in a blast that we set off and we made a break for it. He couldn't tell me what the status was on Felicia and Doctor Fuhito, though."

"Well, I guess some news is better than none."

"Yeah," Tifa said softly. "Come on; help me get the bed out."


	14. Vultures

Tifa and I spent the morning watching the streets below while sipping coffee and listening to the news. The declaration decree had been issued by the president and quickly passed the Senate and House with virtually no resistance. The sovereign Cosmo Canyon federation quickly declared itself as mediator and urged the powers that be to not jump to any conclusions while the other countries watched anxiously. All travel to and from the country was immediately suspended until extra security could be added and safe alternate routes established. Border towns were placed immediately under martial law as SOLDIER prepared deployment into Myceden. Extra patrols were seen in the street with bomb-sniffing dogs. The whole world was going to Hell in a hand-basket and all we could do was indulge in caffeine and reminisce the previous night's events.

Tifa kept the bar closed the entire day. Barret had left before we got up; a note on the bar simply said "Out." We tried to busy ourselves to help make the day go by faster by washing glasses, the bar, polishing silverware, and other menial chores. Tifa offered to braid my hair—one of her favorite pastimes when stressed—but I felt I couldn't sit still long enough for her to get the job done. I told her that when we got Mom and Sephiroth back she could braid it to her heart's content and I would return the favor. The hours dragged on until Barret returned a few minutes before four that afternoon.

Tifa asked, "Any news?"

Barret nodded.

"We've got a break," he said confidently. "But…"

"But…?"

Barret became uneasy.

"It's going to require… you two doing something I don't feel all that comfortable with."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Shinra likes to get his pole waxed at a regular whorehouse down in Wall Market: seems like the extra stress given by the reappearance of Beatrix and the shitstorm that is brewing with our neighbors has left the near-impotent fuck in need of an extra-special session tonight."

I could feel my stomach twisting.

I uttered, "I don't like where this is going…"

"The owner—his royal fatass 'Don' Corneo—is in need of some fresh talent tonight since he's short staffed. Figures since the war is starting that most of the girls relocate to the front line in order to make more money. So, in order to maintain the pleasures of his number one customer, we need three girls undercover."

Barret looked at us and sighed, saying, "Jessie plus you two would make the perfect infiltration team."

"Wait… Fuck that," I said. "There's no goddamn way you're getting me to march in there and perform more tricks than a fucking magician, much less to the man who's leading the company that currently has my mother in custody. Besides: he knows who I am—he's going to know something's up."

"We're not going to go _that _far," he explained. "And we'll make sure that he's not going anywhere. All you have to do is go in there and we get some information out of him by any means possible. Shit, I don't care if you slice open his nuts like a grapefruit, but we need to get our people freed and our names cleared."

"And stopping the use of mako as an energy source?"

"We'll have to work on that later. For now, as much as I hate it, we've got more important things to deal with. You all need to go get your outfits ready—we only have a few hours before y'all need to be there. I'll give you the rest of the details before the mission commencement."

"Okay," Tifa said, folding her arms. "I've got a dress. What can Aeris wear? She's going to need something, too."

Barret replied, "Jessie's going to take her because she needs something also. Speak of the devil, here she is."

Jessie walked into the bar from the cold Midgar morning. She wore a light tan jacket over a blue tank-top and blue jeans; her hair was not constrained by a ponytail today and flowed freely down her shoulders.

"You can barely take a piss out there without someone noticing," she said, exasperated. "I had to go through ever back alley and shortcut known to get here."

"Are you going to have any trouble getting to somewhere that has what you need?" Barret asked.

Jessie smirked, saying, "The place we're going to, the police are afraid to go down."

"Smart thinking."

"Wait," I said. "You don't mean…"

"Yup," she said confidently. "We're going to Bo's."

Bo was a crossdressing purveyor of feminine products for trannies and other people who enjoyed the hobby. While standing at a mere five-feet and six-inches, Bo made up for his lack of stature in muscle. It was rumored that he could bench press two of the beefiest bodybuilders in the gym he once managed before retiring to the simpler life of equipping "chicks with dicks." Law enforcement shied away while on duty due to the amount of prostitution that they were involved with off the clock. In exchange for sex, it was agreed that the city would look the other way and not enforce prostitution regulations like regular health screenings and permits. The only problem was getting there: on foot it would require going through the central square and near the government buildings. Driving ran the risk of getting stopped at a security checkpoint. Jessie seemed to pick up on my uneasiness.

"What's wrong, Aeris? You thinking about how we're going to get there?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "What do you have in mind?"

Tifa spoke up, "Your motorcycle is still out back in the shed, Jessie."

"That'll work just perfectly," Jessie said with a smile.

* * *

Jessie's motorcycle was a classic Highwind Motors bike, the kind that you would often see biker gangs ride around on. With its red gas tank and unpolished chrome, the bike itself looked like it had seen better days. As we roared down the side streets towards the bad part of town, I thought about the oncoming undercover mission I was about to pull off. Just yesterday I was sneaking into a highly sensitive area of Shinra headquarters that quite possibly only management and above only knew about; today I was going to be dressed up as a whore with a good chance of putting my life in danger once again.

Our hair blew wildly in the cold wind of the morning air. I kept my arms wrapped around Jessie's abdomen to help stabilize the effect of her sharp turns and quick braking.

Jessie yelled over her shoulder to me, "So what do you think the plan is?!"

"I don't know!" I shouted back. "I thought I was supposed to ask that!"

"I've never done something like this before, so I don't know!"

There was an overabundance of police cars patrolling the streets. When we crossed the wrong side of the tracks, however, the presence of law enforcement suddenly dropped off. The buildings were grittier; cash-advance places and liquor stores were all over the place. Every house looked like a crack house. We were definitely in Bo's neck of the woods. I had done business here peddling flowers: it was amazing what a simple plant could do for some people. Other flowers that I sold—namely, poppies—were used to make opiates. While I didn't necessarily care for the habit, there were plenty who did and were willing to pay. Think what you will: bills don't pay for themselves.

We pulled into Bo's Boutique, the premier consignment shop for street walkers and people that were into various gender-bending hobbies. Jessie kicked the kickstand down and we got off her bike. Bo's shop was a modest brick building that used to house a bowling alley; he had a selection that rivaled large department store clothiers. Standing there in the doorway, Jessie let out a deep sigh.

"Come on," she said. "I've never been a slut before, so this should prove to be quite interesting."


	15. All Part of the Plan

"I know I've got just the thing," Bo said as he rummaged through the clothing rack.

Bo's store was, compared to the rest of the neighborhood, what one would consider somewhat upscale in looks but with very reasonable prices. Bo often joked that the reason he managed to raise enough cash to purchase the building was that there were "so many fucking queers in this goddamn town with loose lips and looser cash." Tonight Bo was looking extra flamboyant with a leopard print v-line blouse, miniskirt, long pink hair, and a five o'clock shadow that would dull a barber's razor in mere seconds.

"Thanks Bo," Jessie said. "Anything that fits, really; we're in a hurry."

Bo shouted, "A-ha! Found one!"

He handed Jessie a sultry and sleeveless violet cocktail dress.

"Size ten, right?"

Jessie snatched the dress by its hanger.

"Nine," she quipped.

"Jeez, somebody's on the rag," Bo said passively. Turning to me, he asked, "What about you, sweetie?"

I ran my hand through my hair anxiously.

"Um, I don't know… I always had a thing for red," I said warily.

After looking me over for a few seconds, Bo reached deep into the clothes rack and pulled out an exquisite red-sequined, form-fitting, sleeveless pageant gown.

"For your body type," he said. "And considering who your audience is going to be, this should do the trick. Let me guess, size nine?"

I took the dress and draped it over my arm.

"Don't ask," I said.

"Gotcha... you girls going to try them on?"

"Don't have time," Jessie said. "We've got to get going. Here…"

She reached into her pocket and stuffed a couple of hundred gil bills into Bo's hand.

"I was going to give these to you two on the house," Bo contested.

As we turned to make our way to the door, Jessie replied, "No time to argue; go buy you some new hair or something. That pink makes you look like an absolute queer."

* * *

"Well?" Tifa asked somewhat impatiently. "Come on out, let us see it."

I stared into the full-length mirror hanging in Tifa's tiny bathroom. Bo's talent for picking out measurements without even so much as using a ruler was unmatched: the dress fit perfectly. Because time was of the essence, we had to take a few shortcuts. Tifa managed to rummage up a pair of red heels that matched enough though were a little tight. I didn't have a strapless bra so I had to stuff some tissue down the front to cover any perkiness that might pop up. With the aid of a hair straightener, Jessie flattened out my hair enough to let it flow neatly down my back.

I walked out of the bathroom. Tifa and Jessie were already dressed in their outfits.

"You look amazing," Tifa gushed.

Jessie nodded in agreement, saying, "You totally do, Aeris. Better not let the guys see you—they may want to try and fuck you on the spot."

"Thanks," I said with a sad smile. "I'm anxious to get this over with and get my mom out."

"I know sweetie," Tifa replied. "Hang on, let's apply your lipstick and eye shadow and you should be ready."

My lips were painted a deep, passionate red which reminded me of a dark red apple. A light violet shade was applied to my eyes. In all, after looking at myself in the mirror one last time, I was satisfied. It was unusual for me to dress up in such a way; even though the seriousness of the situation hung overhead, I rather liked my new, albeit temporary, evening looks.

The rest of the team was waiting downstairs in the bar. Upon first sight of us, Biggs and Wedge immediately became a little embarrassed at the presence of three highly attractive women.

Biggs managed to utter, "Wow… you girls look…"

"Fucking AMAZING," Wedge interrupted.

"Y'all keep your dick in your pants," Barret barked. "You girls ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be, I suppose," Tifa replied. "You driving us?"

"No: it's too risky being seen there. I've arranged for transport though. Let's go over the details before you three go work your magic."

The plan was simple: go in under the guise that we were three "performers" that were on "special-order" just for Shinra himself. The place was known as the Honeybee Inn—it definitely made no secret about what its main product was. Bright, neon lights; nude girls dancing in the window; all the amphetamines that one could ever want; all you had to do was pay the membership fee and pass a health screening to keep the STDs low. We would be brought in through the employees' entrance into a staging area where performers, hookers and strippers alike, prepared for their next show or trick. Don Corneo would allow us into the room before Shinra so that we could get into position. When Shinra made his appearance, Tifa and Jessie would make sure he was in a suitable area away from the door and panic switch. From that point on, it was anything goes as long as it warranted the information we needed to get my mother and Sephiroth free. Getting the fuck out of there was left up to us and would require playing it by ear.

Barret asked, "Any questions?"

We shook our head.

He cracked open the front door and looked outside.

"Your chauffer is here," he said. "Now don't go and get your pretty asses hurt. Make it back in one piece."

Barret opened the door and allowed us to step into the chilly night air of Midgar. A polished black four-door sedan was parked in front of us. Rude, dressed in a black three-piece suit with his trademarked sunglasses, was holding open the front passenger-side door.

"Your boss pays a lot better than Shinra ever did," he said nonchalantly.

I looked over at Tifa and motioned her to go on. She blushed and slowly eased into her seat.

Rude looked down to her, saying, "You look exquisite… like you always do."

Tifa looked up to him and smiled as he shut the door. He made his way to the next passenger door and opened it to which Jessie claimed. Rude and I walked around to the driver side.

"Hey Rude," I said as he opened my door.

He looked at me.

"I just wanted to say… thanks for sticking your neck out for me. I know you're definitely putting your life on the line for a dumb bitch like me."

"Don't say that," he replied. "I know you'd do the same."

Rude held out his fist. I couldn't help but smile as we fist-bumped.

"Good luck tonight, Miss Gainsborough," he said. "You're going to need it."


	16. All Work and No Play

The ride to the Honey Bee Inn was filled with an intense quiet. Rude constantly glanced in the rearview mirror like he was expecting someone to be tailing us. Tifa kept looking out the windshield and through her window while Jessie and I exchanged nervous glances. When we were blocks away from the establishment, the atmosphere in the car became that of everyone holding their breath. Rude turned down a side street that wound up behind the building into a vacant lot.

As we were exiting the vehicle, Rude grabbed Tifa's arm.

"Just a minute," he said.

Tifa remained seated as the bald man reached under his seat and produced a black fiberglass telescoping rod.

"Reno said to take this," Rude explained, handing the weapon to Tifa. "Said you might need it."

Tifa took the weapon into her hands before giving a quick wrist reflex to extend the rod completely. After pushing it back down into its compartment, she lifted up her dress and slid the weapon into a leg of her nylon stockings while Rude looked the other way, turning red from embarrassment.

Tifa looked up and said, "Tell him I said thanks."

"I will. Please be careful."

She smiled, saying, "Thanks; you too."

She climbed out of the car and shut the door. Rude slowly drove off as we started walking towards the back entrance. The rusty metal door swung open to a gentleman with slicked-back hair that was the result of a bad red dye job and a charcoal-gray business suit. His face glistened from sweat that poured off of his brow—from nervousness or the heat emanating from the place was anyone's guess.

"You must be the new girls," he said loudly. "Come in, come in. I'll be your concierge, Glen."

"Nice to meet you, Glen," Jessie said in a sultry voice.

In the back of my mind, I pondered: if I didn't know any better, I would guess Jessie's favorite pastime as sucking cock.

Glen's blue eyes widened as he ushered us over the threshold and into the break area where we stood.

"I'm Leslie," Jessie continued. Motioning to Tifa, she said, "This is Tiffany, and this is Jasmine."

Glen seemed extremely pleased with his newfound trio of pussy.

"Fantastic," he said, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Well I'm sure your… I'm not sure if it's polite…"

"Our pimp?" Tifa asked.

"Yes," Glen said, laughing. "I'm sorry ladies: I try to maintain a level of respect and professionalism here."

A topless dancer—a blonde with round perky tits with streamers hanging off of her nipples and a pair of bikini briefs—walked by, smiling at us casually. We watched as she made her way down the hallway and to the front where live strip shows were being performed onstage. Glen shrugged cheekily.

"Anyway," he continued. "I'm sure you know why you're here."

"Yes," Jessie replied. "You needed some contract work for a special customer."

"Indeed, my dear; you're definitely not new to this business. Unfortunately, he's not here yet because of the extra security they're enforcing in town. You know how it is: if you have money, you have protection. That being said, why don't you three make yourselves comfortable in the lounge? Here, take these special passes and you'll get free drinks at the bar. The restrooms are over there and if you need to improve your image the dressing room is the first door on the right. Any questions?"

"I think we can manage," I said.

Glen handed us our lanyards before stepping aside and allowing us to make our way down the hallway to the front. The bar and lounge area of the Honeybee Inn was a neon bar with the lights turned down low and strobe lights shoved into every nook and cranny. Multiple colors flashed over patrons and employees alike as nude waitresses tended to their patrons and dancers worked the polls on stage and at tables. The clientele ranged from men still dressed in their SOLDIER garb to businessmen to your average "Joe Blow." We made our way to the bar and took a seat near the end.

"So, Barret's a pimp now, huh?" Tifa asked stoically.

Jessie laughed, saying, "I guess it fits."

We ordered drinks as the music played, the patrons partied, and the girls danced. Before long, the DJ came on the microphone to announce the night's signature dancer.

"All right boys and girls," he bellowed like a television announcer. "You've all been waiting all damn day for her, haven't you?"

There was much excitement from the crowd. Apparently, whoever this dancer was had a small following.

"Try to keep your dicks in your pants this time, fellas. Give it up for… LIGHTNING!"

Tifa choked on her beverage and nearly spilled the glass all over the bar. She swallowed hard and spun around in her barstool. A tall, slender girl who looked about my age made her way up onto the stage. Her silky pink hair with hints of blonde undertone at the roots slinked to past her shoulder blades. Her turquoise eyes pierced those who looked into them; her narrow face gave the subtle hint of ruggedness and fragility simultaneously. To start her performance, Lightning wore what would be considered a lingerie line by SOLDIER: lots of white leather, buckles, and particular parts of her body barely peeking through. She began her dance as she swung around on the pole.

I turned to Tifa who was still staring in disbelief.

"Friend of yours?" I asked nonchalantly.

Tifa snapped back into reality.

"No," she said offhandedly. "I… I don't fucking believe it."

"Believe what?"

"That's Cloud's _sister_."

This time I was the one that got choked. I asked Tifa to repeat herself to verify that I hadn't lost my mind. Unfortunately, I wasn't dreaming.

I leaned back on my barstool, saying, "I didn't know he had a sister… he's never said a word about her."

"Well… he doesn't like to talk about her," Tifa replied, looking down into her drink.

"Why?"

Tifa shook her head and shrugged. I guessed it was another sore spot she didn't want to cover.

I looked back at the stage at Lightning. After studying her face, the family resemblance was strong. The other patrons, however, were too busy studying her other assets. I noticed that the dancer that was proclaimed to be the sibling of my favorite spikey-headed door handler kept looking over in our direction, specifically towards Tifa. Those piercing eyes of hers could burn a hole through four-inch steel.

Lightning commanded the stage unlike any performer I had ever seen. Going to strip clubs was fun for females, especially getting to play with other girls while men drooled all over themselves. She stripped down to fully nude and kicked off her boots, tossing them to a gentleman in the crowd. After many impressive pole acrobatics and gymnastic maneuvers on the stage with the grace and beauty of a swan taking off for winter, Lightning concluded her performance by slowly going into a split, sending her left leg stretched all the way forward while her right leg pointed in the opposite direction perfectly. She lowered her head and outstretched her arms. The audience erupted as more and more gil was tossed onto the stage.

"She seems to be quite an attraction," Jessie commented.

Tifa nodded silently.

Lightning gathered up her earnings and silently walked towards the back of the stage where an exit was to the dressing room. Before leaving, she turned and glared at Tifa for a few brief moments. Tifa didn't return the gaze. Jessie jabbed me in the arm and pointed towards Glen who was emerging from the crowd.

"Alright ladies, it's time," he said with a comforting smile.

We got off the bar stools and followed him through the throngs of horny men and down another hallway consisting of private rooms to entertain guests. Security detail—men dressed in suits—patrolled the halls and checked empty rooms to make sure they were still vacant. They also looked through a peephole in the wall to make sure that everything that was going on inside the room was, to an extent, not going to pose a liability to the business. At the end of one particular hall, past a security room, was the penthouse suite. The door was adorned with an embossed graphic of two women making love to a gigantic phallus.

Glen swiped a keycard through a reader next to the door and punched in a numeric code on a keypad under the reader. The door clicked and opened automatically.

"Be sure to have a good time," he said. "And thank you again for filling in on such short notice. Do a good job and we can make you regular contractors here. We pay the best in all of Midgar."

"Thanks," I said, flashing a smile.

We entered the room and shut the door. The suite was complete with a king sized bed with red and white silk sheets and overstuffed pillows. A miniature bar occupied the immediate corner of the room stocked with all sorts of exotic and exquisite liquors and alcohol. The bathroom was the size of Tifa's apartment and even came with a hot tub. On the wall opposite of the bed was a torture rack, a gimp suit, and dominatrix outfit along with various whips, chains, gags, and other "accessories" for those who swung that way.

"Holy fuck," Jessie said. "I guess this is _the _place to have sex, huh?"

Tifa looked around the room and said, "Sure does seem that way."

I looked around for somewhere to hide. There was a dressing screen that looked like it belonged in a palace in Wutai adjacent to the "dungeon playset." I maneuvered it to where it formed a small semicircle in an empty corner with enough room for me to see what was going on without being noticed. I slid behind it and ducked down.

"Can you see me?" I asked.

"Nope," Jessie said. "Should do just fine."

"How long do you think till he gets here?" Tifa asked.

Jessie shrugged, saying, "I don't know. Why don't you make us something to drink?"

She sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs while Tifa examined the selection. I slid down the wall a little and took a deep breath. Anxiety crept up the back of my neck like a cold draft and grabbed me by the shoulders. I prayed that this is what it would take to end this madness or at least get as close to the end of it as possible.

The sound of a keycard swipe and code being entered followed by the door unlocking put me on high alert. I held my breath as I heard Shinra enter the room. Tifa and Jessie made their introductions using the false names they had used earlier. Shinra seemed to be very pleased but somewhat discerned that one was missing.

"I thought there were three of you?" He asked.

"She's getting ready. We've got something _extra _special planned tonight," Jessie said. "How kinky have you had it, Mr. Shinra?"

Shinra giggled with glee. It was sickening.

"Never this much," he said. "What do you want me to do?"

I heard Tifa stand.

"Strip," she commanded. "Everything; it all comes off."

I heard some rummaging sounds and jingling as Shinra took off his clothes.

"Put this on. That's a good boy."

I heard leather being pulled on and lacing followed by three zippers being zipped up. I immediately knew what they had done.

"Now, over here," Jessie said, giving Shinra a hard shove towards the rack on the wall.

I could hear the fat bastard being strapped into place. Tifa quietly pulled aside the screen and motioned for me to come out. I softly walked towards the bed and looked over at Shinra who was hooked up to the wall in a crucifix manner using leather straps. He seemed completely unaware of my presence and more focused on his most devious sexual fantasy of being dominated. The fat executive was completely nude except for the black leather gimp mask adorned to his face: his eyes and mouth were zipped up. Jessie examined the tools of the trade on a nearby table and produced a pair of battery terminal clamps—ones that were meant for a car battery.

"Can you hear me, Mr. Shinra?" Jessie asked seductively.

He nodded fervently.

Without speaking, I stepped forward, grabbed the clamps from Jessie, and clamped one to each of Shinra's testicles. He screamed in immense pain and jerked his body around on the wall.

Tifa gasped, "Aeris?!"

"That feel good, you shit-eating impotent cum stain?!" I shouted at him.

I unzipped his eye covers. He glowered at me and started making muffled begging sounds.

"Get me a scotch," I said over my shoulder. "We're going to be awhile."


	17. Sins of the Father

"Now then, President Shinra," I said, taking the bullwhip from the table. "Every time I think you're shitting me, I'm going to whip your nuts. You be a good boy and tell the truth, your balls won't get knocked around like a goddamn tetherball. Got it?"

Shinra continued to scream and writhe in pain. I gave Jessie a nod to remove the clamps from the old man's testicles. Upon removal, blood started to run down Shinra's legs: apparently, I had been a little too forceful when applying. Too bad all the fucks I would've given were shot out the window earlier. I unzipped his mouth.

Shinra was gasping for air.

He exclaimed between gasps, "Aeris! I swear to God, I don't have anything to do with this!"

"Wrong answer, shit-for-brains," I said flatly.

I took the whip and gave a fierce swipe across his privates. Shinra screamed in pain.

"Want to try again?"

"Please!" he pleaded. "It's that bitch Davis: she wants to get rid of me and take over the company! She's already killed Lazard!"

"Why does she want to take over the company?" Tifa asked.

Shinra swallowed hard as tears welled up in his eyes.

"She wants to harness the knowledge of the Lifestream for herself… she wants to become an Ancient."

"But you can't just 'become' an Ancient," I countered. "What in the hell does she hope to accomplish?"

Shinra writhed a few more times.

"Elena has made a deal with Hojo," he said, swallowing hard. "She wants to use Beatrix and use this dark magic that the Ancients used against Jenova once long ago!"

Tifa turned to me and asked, "The Black Materia?"

I looked and Shinra and said, "Why is my mother and Sephiroth involved then? What happened to Beatrix? Why is she not dead?"

Shinra took a deep breath.

"She never was dead," he gasped.

I whipped him three more times.

"Liar!" I shouted.

"It's the truth!" he screamed. "I swear it! Get the files! Find my other son!"

"What files?! Where is your son?!" Jessie asked.

Suddenly the door was kicked in. A man in a dark blue suit and black tie, roughly my height, with short dirty blonde hair and broad shoulders stepped in with a silver semiautomatic handgun. Without saying a word, he raised the gun and fired off one shot. The back of Shinra's head exploded and tore the gimp mask apart. The mysterious gunman turned to us next and took aim. Before he could fire off a shot, though, Cloud's sister came up from behind and slammed a full glass bottle of vodka across the back of his skull, shattering the container and sending shards and liquid everywhere. The gunman toppled face-first into the floor with his arms outstretched though he was still conscious. On his hands and knees, Tifa ran forward and kicked him in the face as hard as she could. The dapper dressed assassin fell into the bar, after which Tifa tipped over on top of him.

Lightning shouted at us: "Let's go!"

No longer dressed in a SOLDIER uniform, she was now decked out in a black form-fitting short sleeve shirt, beige shorts, and brown leather boots that came up to her knees. We ditched our heels and made a break for it, following the pink-haired erotic dancer through a side passageway and towards an emergency exit. Bodies of Honeybee Inn security littered the hallway. Whoever this was, he wasn't fucking around, and chances were he wasn't alone. Lightning stopped short of the fire exit and slowly pressed the bar that unlatched the door. Giving a small shove, she opened the door slightly and peered through the crack into the parking lot. Not seeing anything, she began to open the door completely.

As Lightning stepped out onto the concrete landing, a slender hand reached out and grabbed her by the neck. Lightning was lifted off her feet and tossed over the metal railing in a perfectly executed hip-toss by another man in a suit. This one was a little taller than the first man with short dark brown hair and a smaller frame. Tifa, who was immediately behind Lightning, received a fast foot to the abdomen. She exhaled harshly and fell into Jessie and the wall. The man leapt into the doorway and took a stance like that of a martial arts expert.

This was not going to end well at all.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to buy some time while Tifa and Jessie recovered.

He jumped and propelled himself off the wall in an attempt to take my head off with a spinning roundhouse. I dove out of the way and crashed into the floor. He landed and turned to me, taking on another defensive stance.

"Does it matter?" he asked callously.

The man was taken off his feet as Lightning bum rushed him with a shoulder smash. She carried him into a two-way mirror of a security room, sending him and shrapnel out of the hallway. She ran to me and helped me up before helping Tifa and Jessie.

"Let's go, move!" she ordered.

Jessie helped lift Tifa to her feet and we ran outside.

Lightning pointed to a red sports car and shouted, "Get in my car!"

We rushed over to her car, a two-door import model from Wutai that looked like it could tear through traffic like nobody's business. Jessie helped Tifa climb into the backseat and sat beside her while I took the front. Lightning got in and started the car as a bullet hit the hood of the car.

"DAMMIT!" she screamed as she cranked the car and put it in gear.

More bullets started to pelt the car. I looked up and saw the stocky man who shot Shinra standing at the emergency exit taking aim. He seemed more interested in disabling the car than killing us. Lightning stepped on the gas and peeled out of the parking lot. We tore through the streets and towards the highway.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"My place," Lightning said, shifting gears as we entered an onramp. "I live in Kalm. They won't think of looking there, at least not for a while."

She looked into her rearview mirror at Tifa.

"Nice to see you again, Tifa," she said flatly. "Finally give up the whole bartender thing?"

Tifa narrowed her gaze and didn't say anything.

* * *

Jessie called Barret from a prepaid cellphone while we cruised down the highway. After briefly giving him a synopsis of what happened, Barret said he would find a way to get back in touch once he had some more information. Lightning looked over at me.

"You guys AVALANCHE?" she asked.

I gave a nod towards Tifa and Jessie and said, "They are. Shinra has my mom."

Lightning was taken aback.

"Your mom? Why do they have your mom?"

"Long story," I sighed. "So… you gonna to turn us in or something?"

Lightning shook her head.

"No," she said. "Besides, my brother has a thing for you."

"So you've heard about me?"

Lightning brushed some of her hair back, saying, "Afraid so. If you're hanging out with princess back there and ain't dead yet, then it's safe to assume you're either tough as hell or damn lucky."

"Glad to see your attitude hasn't changed, Claire," Tifa said sternly.

"I thought your name was Lightning?" Jessie asked.

"Stage name," Lightning said. "And fuck you too, Tifa."

The rest of the trip was silent. After fifteen minutes, I saw a road sign detailing towns and their respective exits as well as miles: Kalm was another ten minutes. I looked in the back at Tifa and Jessie. Tifa was resting her head on Jessie's shoulder while Jessie looked out the window at the passing cars. I turned to Lightning and asked, "What made you save us?"

"For Cloud," she said. "He would never forgive me if I ever let anything happen to Tifa… and probably you."

"Well… thanks."

Lightning nodded.

"Do I still call you Lightning?" I asked.

"No," she said. "It's a stupid thing I came up with long ago—just call me Claire."

"Claire Strife?"

Claire gave a half smile.

"Not quite," she said. "Cloud's my half-brother. My last name's Farron."

I looked at her and asked, "Long story?"

She nodded, saying, "Long story. But to be succinct, Cloud's mother was a mistress. She was a damn nice lady though and loved me and Serah like her own. I never understood why she did but… it doesn't matter."

Claire's voice was breaking. Like everyone else around me, she had her own skeletons in the closet and wasn't interested in airing that dirty laundry right just yet. She wiped her eyes and kept driving. I leaned my head back on the headrest as we took the Kalm exit. Kalm was a small community composed of a gas station and several small shops. It also served as an inland port because of its vicinity to the ocean—a mere ninety miles inland—and because of its close access to the highway. A railroad yard occupied the east end of town and provided vagrants an easy trip to a new destination.

Claire drove through town towards the north end into a residential area. After passing rows of houses and neighborhoods, she pulled off onto a narrow side street that was sparsely populated. Claire pulled into the fourth house on the left: a cozy red brick house that was about half the size of mine. After putting the car in park and killing the engine, we made our way inside.

Claire's interior was sparsely furnished with whitewashed walls, a couch, television, and a kitchen with a lonely table and single chair. Her bedroom had a single mattress on the floor next to an alarm clock and small dresser. Hanging on the wall of the living room was a picture of her, Cloud, and presumably her younger sister, Serah, from a time when they were children. Claire made a beeline for her refrigerator and opened it up.

"Any of y'all care for a beer?" she asked without looking up.

"I'll take one," Jessie said.

I sat down onto the couch along with Tifa and Jessie.

"I guess I'll take one, too," I said.

Tifa remained silent, staring intently at the picture on Claire's wall. Claire returned and tossed a bottle of booze to Jessie and then to me. We twisted off the tops and each began taking hard swigs. Claire dragged her only dining room chair into the living room and placed it in front of us before plopping down in it.

Jessie looked up after a hard gulp and asked, "So, now what?"

"That's up to you," Claire said. "In case you haven't noticed I voluntarily stuck my nose in your business and President Shinra is dead. If anything, my name is probably now going to be tied to you guys. Cloud will no doubt be here before too long asking what the fuck happened. To be honest, other than him I don't have anything else left to live for since I left SOLDIER."

"You're ex-SOLDIER?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I made First Class when I was sixteen about five years ago; got out three years later."

I commented, "Well that explains the uniform. Why'd you leave?"

"Let's just say that this war that we're diving headfirst into didn't just happen on a whim. What's your story?"

I explained to Claire my story start to finish, from Beatrix's reappearance to Sephiroth's run-in and then my assistance from AVALANCHE. She listened intently and finished off her beer.

"Goddamn," she said in disbelief. "Even the great Sephiroth is roped into this, huh? It sounds like Davis is going to be a real piece of work to overcome. I know that bitch has hated me for as long as I can remember."

Claire sat back in her chair.

She narrowed her gaze and smiled, saying, "Tell you what: how about letting me come along to help get your mom out. I've got something I've got to deal with Mr. Crescent with, anyway."

"What?" I asked.

"None of your concern," she snapped.

"How the hell do we know we can even trust you?" Tifa questioned defiantly. "As far as we know, you could just as well be some tool for Shinra playing the hero just to put a bullet in our brains later."

"Believe me, the only bullet I want to put in anyone is you," Claire said nonchalantly.

Tifa leapt up from the couch.

"You want to go at it now bitch?! Let's go!" she screamed. "I'm sorry for what happened to Serah, but it was a goddamn accident!"

Claire leapt from her chair as well, knocking it over. With her fist rearing back and Tifa getting ready to take a defensive stance, I braced myself for an unwanted show. Jessie immediately launched herself into the middle of the spat.

"Hey, hey, HEY!" she shouted. "Enough!"

Tifa and Claire stood down and backed away from each other.

"Can we trust you?" Jessie asked Claire point-blank.

Claire blew some hair out of her face and said, "Yeah, sure… whatever. I have nothing left to lose and Davis is probably going to send every goddamn goon she has after me now so I might as well."

"Shinra said something about finding his other son. Do you know anything about that?"

"Yeah," she said. "Rufus Shinra, the once vice president of Shinra Electric until he got cancer all those years ago: if he's still alive, I know where he'll be, somewhere where Davis can't get to him."

Claire looked at Tifa and snarled, "You may have been my brother's friend, but you're no friend of mine. Whatever we do, you best keep up or I'll leave you behind, and stay outta my way."

Tifa gave her a middle finger.

"As long as you do the same, slut," she said.

I drank the last of my beer. Suddenly, associating with AVALANCHE didn't seem so bad.


	18. Just Another Statistic

Cloud arrived at his sister's house roughly fifteen minutes past three in the morning. As his motorcycle pulled up into the driveway, I nudged Tifa and Jessie to wake them up, who had fallen asleep beside me on the couch. Claire was in the kitchen loading magazines for a pair of FN Five Sevens like Sephiroth had when we first infiltrated the Shinra building except these models didn't have a tactical flashlight: instead, they were equipped with laser sighting. The front door became unlocked and was pushed open; Cloud pocketed his keys and closed the door back, ensuring that both the knob and deadbolt were secure. Tonight he was dressed in a black sweater, matching cargo jeans, and boots.

He stopped immediately at the sight of the three of us on the couch.

"Just what in the _fuck _did you girls do?" he asked with bated breath.

I looked up at him and replied, "It was a goddamn trap, that's what it was: seems upper management at Shinra wanted to shuffle the board around. Who the hell were those guys?"

"You know the Department of Administrative Research, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, it also acts like the company's internal affairs division, not unlike a police department has one. Unfortunately, these guys are typically called in to clean up messes not by simply handing out pink slips but by torture, abductions, and murder. The ones that you saw tonight were Hal Carpenter and Anthony Enos. Hal is a demolitions and heavy weapons expert while Tony is their close-quarters combat specialist. Normally, those two are bad enough: when they send Thom in, though, then it's serious."

"Thom?" I asked.

"I don't know his last name, but I know that he served in Myceden's Marine Corps and then in their secret service. His claim to fame is his interrogation techniques and technical prowess. I heard he even has a doctorate in tactical computer science. Rumor was, he loved killing so much he couldn't hold down an educational or contracting job. As far as I know, he's both a Shinra and government employee with the responsibility of eliminating everything incriminating if shit hits the fan. Given the current circumstances, I feel a huge log is about to be catapulted into a propeller."

Claire walked into the room. Cloud looked her over quickly like he was checking for wounds. Satisfied with his examination, he kissed her cheek and gave her a tight hug.

"Thank God you're not hurt," he said.

Claire returned the embrace.

"You don't need to worry about me," she said quietly. "Have they started looking for us?"

Releasing her, Cloud stepped back and shook his head.

He crossed his arms and said, "No, on the contrary: they're trying to make this look like a random act of violence brought on by Myceden insurgents in the city. It looks like they're still trying to pin it on AVALANCHE which, if I didn't know otherwise, wouldn't be far from the truth. In any case, Elena has tasked the investigation to the DAA."

"How ironic," she commented flatly. "Let me guess, since _they _are the ones that killed that fat piece of shit, they're going to focus all their resources on finding us?"

"Looks that way; I suggest we get moving ASAP since Thom will be pouring through your personnel file as soon as they identity you. They know you all wouldn't be stupid enough to stay in Midgar."

Claire gave a slight nod, saying "No shit. Look, Shinra said to go find his son. Once we find him and set a plan of action, we're going to go hit the Shinra building while all this madness is going on. They'll be sending their best guys here to Kalm, so we better move fast instead of standing around running our mouths."

"He's probably at Healen Lodge," Cloud said.

Claire agreed, "That's what I figured. Come on, let's get changed and get out there. We need to deliver the news and see if he's willing to aid us in our cause. Otherwise…"

Claire slapped a clip into her gun and chambered a round.

"…I'll make sure he's just another statistic."


End file.
